


AngelRider

by Serenity59



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel's true form, Angels, Angst, BAMF Gabriel (Supernatural), BAMF Sam Winchester, Dragons, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel loves his human, Gen, Guardian Angels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Soulmates, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, true!form
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 59
Words: 137,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity59/pseuds/Serenity59
Summary: Sam looks into the eyes of heaven, and sees how they can defeat Michael and bring peace back to the world. He and Gabriel are the key to saving humanity- will they make it together through all of the obstacles life just loves to throw at them? **I suck at summaries but here you go**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Please read and Review!

Sam and Cas were officially screwed. Asmodeus had them both pinned by the necks, and Sam felt his insides start to twist. He watched helplessly as Gabriel, traumatized to the point of breakdown, was being dragged off by the Prince of Hell’s minions. He thought of everything that had unfolded within the last few weeks. Jack, Mom, Dean… they were all going to come back and find out that he had died without even getting a chance to say goodbye. And Lucifer… the thought of going back to The Cage filled him with terror. That’s when it happened. 

A roar echoed through the halls of the bunker, unlike anything Sam had ever heard before. For a moment, he feared that another hell-sent creature had found them. But then Asmodeus fell to the ground, and the awful, painful twisting of his insides ceased. Inhaling hungrily for air, he looked up in amazement to see a sight he’d never forget. 

It was Gabriel. Gabriel, but…  _ not  _ Gabriel. A large, golden, scaly dragon stood on two taloned feet, like those of an eagle. It had two enormous, outstretched amber wings that easily covered the 30ft of space from wall to wall. Feathers the size of 2x4s covered them, and the shoulders of the beast were strong and spiked. Perhaps most striking, however, were it’s eyes. There were no irises or pupils, rather, a window into the universe. Galaxies and stars and planets glowed where its eyes should have been, a living portal into the depths of space. It’s fangs were long and razor sharp, glinting in the bluish glow of its grace. Two spiraled horns came up the sides of its head, and adorned it like a crown. It was a picture of beauty and danger, both frightening and lovely. 

He was so enthralled that it took him a moment to register the sound of someone screaming.  _ Was that me _ ? He thought absently, before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the creature. Asmodeus was on fire, his vessel crumpling like paper in a flame as Gabriel smote him. He turned and saw that it was Cas calling to him, watching him in horror. 

“Sam, close your eyes!” He was yelling over the creature’s roar, “Close your eyes NOW, Sam, he’ll blind you!”

Sam stared at him in confusion momentarily, not understanding the words his friend was saying, before the noise suddenly stopped. Quiet enveloped the room, and Asmodeus’ dead, burnt vessel was laying in ashes on the floor. Sam looked to see that the minions he’d brought with him had been vaporized. He also saw that the dragon was gone, and regular Gabriel was in its place, looking to be in one piece but disheveled.

Cas was staring at Sam with an open mouth, blue eyes wide as if the Winchester brother had grown three heads. “Sam…” He began, voice rough as he helped the other man stand up. 

“You ok?” Sam swallowed, trying to contain his surprise and confusion at what had just happened.

“Sam… you’re not blind,” Cas said in astonishment, “you’re alive.”

The younger Winchester stared back at Castiel, not understanding. “Of course I am, thanks to Gabriel… what’s going on? What just happened?” He demanded, looking to Gabriel who’d come back down to join them.

Gabriel simply looked at him with an unreadable expression, eyes deep and wide. Sam knew now what was really behind them. “You saw my warrior form.” He said quietly. 

“Your what?” Sam asked, frowning. 

“An angel’s warrior form is the way they appear in battle… It is only a step below from our true face. No human can look upon it without disintegrating, but you just did.” Cas explained, still staring at him. 

Sam shook his head, looking at Gabriel. “I don’t get it,” he said, “why can I see you but others can’t?”

Gabriel and Castiel shared a knowing gaze, watching each other briefly before turning back to Sam. They knew, and although neither angel dared get their hopes up, they couldn’t help but feel amazed at what had just happened. It was the closest thing to a miracle they’d seen since God left, and a new, ignited flame of hope began to surge within them. 

“Call Dean. Tell him to get back here now.” Cas instructed, handing the cell phone to Sam. 

Sam wanted to ask a million questions. He wanted to know how Gabriel had transformed into that… that thing, why he was spared from seeing his warrior form, and what they knew that they were so blatantly hiding from him. He wanted to ask all of these things, but instead, the only words that left his mouth were, “Why, what’s wrong?” 

Gabriel’s eyes showed signs of his old vibrancy returning to them. “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, things may have just gotten a whole lot better.”

  
  


“That’s impossible, how are Sammy’s eye sockets not two black holes right now?” Dean demanded, having just returned from Apocalypse World. At first he’d accused Gabriel of lying, still being wary of the former trickster after all the stunts he’d pulled on them. But when Cas had confirmed what happened, and when Dean saw the dead body of the last prince of Hell, he had no other choice but to believe. 

Castiel looked to Rowena for help in delivering his explanation, not quite knowing how to tell the two brothers the possible reason for the seemingly impossible event. 

“Don’t you go givin’ me that look, Cas, I’m no better than you at sweet talkin’.” She muttered, turning back to reading a book she’d flicked out from the library shelves. 

“No, no ‘sweet-talking’, just tell us the damn truth!” Sam exclaimed, frustrated, “What the hell is going on?”

Castiel sighed, glancing at Gabriel before looking back to Sam and Dean. “We… Can’t be sure, but, we think that Sam may have been grace bonded to Gabriel.” He said.

Sam’s eyes widened at the words, and Dean simply sputtered in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Sam never consumed any of his grace, we never did anything-”

“You don’t  _ have  _ to do anything, it’s not some spell or deal that bonds an angel with a human, it has to be an approved match.” Castiel said tiredly, rubbing his face with his hands. 

“Approved by who?” Dean asked the question they were all thinking, looking at the angel skeptically.

Castiel inhaled deeply before looking at them all. “God.” He said, sending the room into stunned silence. 

“Nice delivery, little bro.” Gabriel smirked from the side, earning an annoyed glare from Castiel. 

“G-God? As, as in  _ the  _ god?” Sam stammered, shocked. It couldn’t be true- no one had heard from Chuck in months. 

Castiel bit his lip conflictingly, searching for the right words to explain. He’d spent years on earth, and still felt lost when it came to the art of conversation. “There is a legend in heaven about a human having once bonded with an angel.” He began, “No one has ever witnessed it, so I cannot say if it’s a certain truth. Apparently an early descendant of Enoch shared a grace bond with an angel, and was able to ride it into battle. With the bond, their powers were combined, making them almost unstoppable. When an angel bonds its grace to a human, it becomes tied to their lifeforce and vise versa. They are bound to die together, and escort each other to the afterlife where they are said to spend the rest of eternity riding in heaven and guarding its gates.” Cas explained, watching their faces. 

Sam was speechless, at a loss for words. He felt that he should be more upset than he was, but every time he looked at Gabriel, he couldn’t help but see the same beauty he’d witnessed hours ago. The breathtaking  _ goodness  _ of that face was reverberating through his mind, and he felt a strange sense of calmness that he hadn’t experienced since Lucifer.

“Look, even if this was true, how the hell could this even happen? I thought God had disappeared! If he’s gone, how could he have bonded Sam and Gabriel?” Dean protested, trying to wrap his head around everything that was being said. 

“Dad has a way of surprising people,” Gabriel murmured, “you never know what he can and can’t do.” 

“Don’t you boys see what’s happening?” Rowena interrupted, looking to Dean and Sam, “This is your answer! This is how we can stop Lucifer and maybe even Michael. With Sam and Gabriel’s power, we’ll have more grace than we’ll know what to do with!” She exclaimed. “You can get Jack and your mum back, and your little friends can save their topsy-turvy world.”

Gabriel folded his arms, suddenly feeling light headed. He’d barely been able to tear his gaze away from Sam since he killed Asmodeus- his grace was restless, and a certain aura of energy seemed to flow through him, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since his father made creation and blessed him as the messenger. 

“Slow your roll there, red,” Gabriel managed to interject, “we’re not even sure that this even happened. It could be anything that saved Sammy’s eyes from burning at the sight of my gorgeous bod.” Dean shot a glare at the archangel.  “And besides,” Gabriel continued, “even if, somehow, it  _ was  _ a grace bond, that’s a life sentence.” He looked to Sam, unable to read his gaze, “And when I say life, I mean  _ eternal.  _ No deals, no demons, no ‘magical will power’ from my innocent nephew, not even my brothers could bring us back. It’s the final ride, and if one of us happens to get shivved, it’s game over for both of us.” 

A heavy silence enveloped the room, and nobody spoke for a while until Dean finally spoke up. “C’mon, guys, tell me no one is even considering  _ considering  _ this! Am I the only one seeing straight here?” He yelled, looking to his younger brother for backup. 

Sam wanted to say something, something to comfort his older brother who’d been so cold and on edge as of late. Sam couldn’t blame him- he had the world on his shoulders. They were, to say the least, trying times for everyone. But almost as if on instinct, he couldn’t stop staring at Gabriel, who’d been watching him intently as well. It was… weird. Right. Like they’d known each other for a long, long time. Sam felt like he should be afraid, like he should be angry and frantic like Dean. He had every right to be. But he found himself feeling nothing but a strange drumming sensation in his chest, not quite comfortable but not unpleasant, either. He didn’t even notice when they started panicking at his unresponsiveness. Gabriel and him had locked eyes, and the drumming sensation was only getting louder. 

“Sam! Sammy, snap out of it!” Dean shouted, shaking his brother’s shoulders roughly. He looked desperately to Castiel, who was also looking on in fear. “What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he talking?” He demanded, and Cas only shook his head in confusion.

Sam could just barely hear the voices of everyone around them, Dean shouting and Rowena’s muffled gasps. The words all faded away like ashes in the wind, however, when the drumming sensation stopped. The world was silent for a fraction of second, before blinding gold light filled Sam’s vision, and suddenly, six pairs of wings sprouted from Gabriel’s back, and Sam looked on in wonder. 

They were like every color in the visible universe, only  _ more.  _ They were strong, feathered wings that stretched the enormity of the bunker, curling against themselves when they ran out of space in the room to fit. Sam’s mouth hung open, unable to form any words, and it appeared that Gabriel felt the same way. 

“You can see them, can’t you?” The archangel stated more than asked, watching Sam closely.

Sam was only able to nod slightly, completely unaware that they were no longer in the bunker. The world seemed to have faded away, and they were suspended in a colorless void of nothingness. The words left Sam’s mouth without his permission, and his voice felt foreign when he spoke them. “Blessed art thou amongst heaven, Gavri’el, to you I give my soul.” He didn’t even notice that somehow, he’d spoken in perfect Enochian. Intellectually, he knew he should be afraid. He should be freakin’ terrified. But he’d never felt calmer.

“I am yours and you are mine.” Gabriel said, voice devoid of its usual mirth. He stared at Sam, his hazel eyes filled with a sense of… contentment? Peace? It was such a multi faceted emotion that Sam couldn’t describe it in the english language. It just… was.

A sudden gust of wind blew through wherever they were, ruffling Sam’s hair while feeling cool and soft against his skin. The void blew away in the wind like dandelion seeds, and when he opened his eyes, Sam was back at the bunker, sitting in the same chair he’d been in before. Dean and Cas were crowded around him, Rowena fretting over Gabriel. 

“Sam, look at me!” Dean barked, grasping firmly by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. Sam blinked and inhaled sharply, looking up at Dean and Castiel. The younger angel had a strange look in his eye, like he’d just seen something wasn’t supposed to. Sam went to reassure them, went to tell Cas that everything was ok, but instead what came out of his mouth was, “Khastiy’el.” 

Cas’s eyes widened, and his hands just barely trembled as he took a step back from Sam. 

Dean, still confused, looked to his brother in concern. “What? Sammy, look at me,  _ are you ok?” _ He demanded. 

Sam gulped and nodded, looking to his older brother. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.” 

Sighing in relief, Dean still held fast to his brother’s shoulders, grounding him to the world. “What the hell happened?” He asked, searching Sam’s eyes for an answer. 

Sam looked briefly at Gabriel before turning back to Dean. “I am his. And he is mine.” He answered. 

A sudden wave of grace blew through the universe, and every angel in existence stopped what they were doing and marveled at the announcement. 

  
  
  


Jack was in the middle of helping secure supplies onto the bus, the sullen world around him preparing to leave, when he suddenly stopped. 

“Jack?” Mary asked, concern plain on her face as she turned to him, “What’s happened?” For a moment, she thought angels were coming and was about to prepare her gun, when Jack simply smiled at her. 

“Something wonderful.” He said, eyes filled with light.


	2. Grace Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please leave your thoughts and review!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave your thoughts and review! Thanks for reading!

"Cas, you gotta know some way to undo this." Dean ran his hands through his hair worriedly as they paced around the bunker. Sam and Gabriel had been bonded by grace- what was once a terrifying suspicion was now a confirmed reality. It became so when Sam came out of his little trance speaking Cas's Enochian name, shocking the angel to no end. Gabriel, despite being recovered, was back to barely speaking at all. He only watched Sam with a startling intensity that disturbed Dean to no end.

Castiel's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "There is no way that I know of. Only our father can make and unmake angel grace. Therefore, only our father can make and unmake the bond." He said gruffly.

"So, what, we're just gonna wait around until he decides to change his mind?" Dean exclaimed in frustration, slamming his hand against the table. "In case you haven't noticed, Mom and Jack are in danger, along with the entire universe as soon as the Other Michael comes through that rift! We already have a problem keeping tabs on each other as it is, now we have to make sure both Sam  _and_ Gabriel stay alive? People are dropping like flies, Cas, and if we lose one of them, we lose both!"

Sam, who'd been watching his brother start to erupt like a volcano, decided it was time to intervene. "Look, Dean, neither one of us is going to go running off into a suicide mission, ok? Maybe we're just… Overthinking this." He tried to reason.

Dean gave him a look that Sam was well versed with. The, 'I-know-better-than-you-so-shut-up' look. An overprotective older brother tended to have eyes that didn't see and ears that didn't hear. "Yeah, Sammy, 'course not. It's not like we, uh, we don't have a juiced-up archangel and  _satan_ on our asses! We're fine! No danger here." He threw his hands up in mock relief, shoulders still tense with anger and worry.

Rowena scoffed from the edge of the map table, tapping her chin lazily. "Honestly, Dean, I don't know why you're so negative all the time. You should be happy." She murmured.

"Happy?" Dean growled, not in the mood for her tricks.

"Yes," The witch said, "this way, we have enough power to stand a chance against your unhinged friend, and Samuel has finally found his  _other half,"_ She smiled flirtatiously, causing Sam to roll his eyes and Dean to force himself from not unleashing a string of curse words.

"I'm not his  _other half,_ " Sam shot back at her, "and if we're in that much trouble, it might not be a bad thing to have twice the power. I mean, we don't even know how this works yet. We might be able to take down Lucifer with this on our side."

"That is doubtful." Castiel interjected, "Lucifer, Michael, all the angels know that you are bonded now."

Sam's eyes widened at this. "W-what? That's impossible, we got the entire place warded!"

"You don't need to be nearby to know when an angel bonds its grace." Castiel replied, "It is a universal feeling… Almost like, a "public announcement" as you would say."

Dean could tell that he was fighting a losing battle, and even though he wanted to scream, fight, and demand they find a way to undo this, he knew they didn't have time. He couldn't afford to waste precious moments letting his anger out. Sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ok… You guys stay here, make sure Gabriel gets back to himself to make enough grace so we can open the rift again. Cas and I will go look for Lucifer."

Sam's heart leapt to his throat at that, and he jumped up after his brother. He'd lost Dean so many times before, he didn't know if he could do it again. "Dean, wait! You can't just run out looking for him, he'll kill you!" He protested.

Dean grabbed his shotgun from the table, walking over to Cas so he could fly them away. "We need the extra grace as back up. If Gabriel can't get up to par in time, we can't wait. We need to get back to Jack and mom."

Sam was ready to point out all of the flaws in his older brother's plan. Before he could speak up, however, Rowena sauntered by and joined them.

"Don't lose your head, Samuel," She patted Sam on the shoulder as she passed him, "I'll make sure he stays out of trouble."  
Dean looked at her, frowning in confusion. "What, you're coming with us?" He asked.

Rowena smirked, folding her arms. "You boys will need help trapping the devil, and I know a spell or two… besides." Her face turned dark, "I have a bone to pick with him myself."

"Don't we all." Dean said grimly, eyes never leaving his little brother.

"Dean, wait-" Sam cried, but before he could utter another word, the three were gone with the sound of flapping wings.

Sam closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the hopelessness that was worming its way in through his head. Who am I kidding, I've been messed up since Lucifer, he thought bitterly to himself, why try to fix what's broken beyond repair. He knew what sealed the deal with his mental and emotional damage. It was looking upon Lucifer's face. Looking upon his  _real, true_ face. He could never get that image out of his head. Even thinking about it made him want to be physically ill, and he had to concentrate on something else before the madness overtook him.

"I could help with that, you know." A sudden voice said from behind him.

Sam nearly jumped out of his seat and his heart stopped for two beats as he whirled around to see Gabriel standing behind him. "Son of a bitch! Don't do that," He gasped, trying to catch his breath, before registering what Gabriel had said. "Wait, help with what?"

Gabriel crossed his arms and leaned against one of the columns, honey golden hair falling in strands around his face. "Some people say that looking at an angel's true face can counteract the effects of looking at my brother." He said casually.

Sam's eyes widened. Not even caring that Gabriel had completely invaded his privacy by reading his mind, his thoughts were focused solely on what he said. Ever since The Cage, he'd been desperate to find a way to at least get rid of that horrible memory. Recently, however, he'd started to accept the fact that it was too late, that he'd be haunted by that indescribable horror for the rest of his life. But a small surge of hope at the possibility of being able to get over that reignited with in him. "Wait…" He started, "What are you saying?"

The archangel smiled at him with that grin that made him so much like the trickster he'd impostered. "I'm saying that laying eyes on my rockin' awesome face can make some people forget about Luci's ugly mug." He explained.

Sam swallowed nervously. "Could I do that?" He asked, "I mean, could I really look at your face without… you know… disintigrating?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I thought we went over this, Sammich, you literally  _just saw me."_

"Yeah, but that was your… I dunno… dragon-y form. Can I actually do that? See you for… what you are?" His heart was thudding faster now, and felt his fingertips grow cold.

Gabriel shrugged. "They're not that much different. Besides, the big guy upstairs decided that you and I can work well together. You'll have to be able to see me eventually."

Sam looked at him apprehensively, knowing that if he was wrong, he'd have to feel his eyeballs melt into an ashy goo before his flesh flaked away like a burnt up marshmellow. But if he was right… If he was right, he might actually get to be freed from that dark, suffocating image that tormented him every night. He might get some of his life back.

"Then I'll do it." He said softly after a moment of silence, looking up to Gabriel, "Show me."

The archangel dropped his trickster facade and he looked at Sam seriously, and a flash of emotion crossed his eyes. Was that…  _nervousness?_ But just as soon as it'd come, it was gone. "Are you sure you know what you're asking for?" He walked slowly towards Sam, "You might regret it."

Sam shook his head without hesitation, a sudden certainty mounting within him. "I'm sure." He said.

Gabriel looked at him for one last, long moment, before sighing and giving an almost imperceptible nod. For a moment, he contorted his arms in such a strange fashion that Sam almost thought he was seizing, and worry jumped into his throat as he began to move towards him.

What happened next, however, was something he'd never forget. Something that somehow was able to engrave itself into his very soul. A momentarily blinding light exploded into the room, and he blinked back for a moment, wondering for a split second if he'd been wrong, if he should close his eyes. But then the harshness faded, and the world around him was bathed in a warm light, a color that the english language didn't even have a word for. It was soothing and calming, between a golden and… purplish color? Sam couldn't tell. He didn't have anything to compare it to. A pool of pure grace flitted around his feet, swirling with that glowing blue light it was known to produce. And there, towering over Sam like a skyscraper, was what had to be Gabriel.

Sam didn't know whether to be terrified or rejoice at what he saw. It was… unlike anything on earth, that was for sure. It was humanoid in a way, but it wasn't. It had arms, but they were long and different, hanging down to mid calf. Or, where calves would be on a human. The limbs on this creature were a glowing menagerie of colors and patterns. They were sinewy, almost like sticks stuck in a rag doll. To Sam's amusement, however, the creature had five fingers and five toes, like he did. He would've laughed at the similarity if he wasn't so awestruck. The creature was wearing something, what looked like a tunic, but it wasn't. A shroud of mist, almost, dragged down around it's feet, clinging to the creature like a needy child would to its mother. It was sheer and flowing, like a living piece of fabric. The spindly hand held the familiar looking angel blade, and further up on the creature, six enormous wings stretched around Sam and out of his eyesight. They were gold, in every imaginable shade of gold, and dotted with stars and planets. Perhaps it's head was the most shocking. Heads, more like it. The creature seemed to have four different faces. An eagle-like animal's face was looking out of the side of it's head, a ram with horns was looking out of the  _other side_ of it's head, and that of a lion was facing the back. The lion's mane was long, flowing down to the creature's oddly shaped, skeletal like feet. And front and center, facing Sam, was a simplified, almost-caricature like humanoid face. It had no nose, no eyebrows, no lips, but a long, thin mouth that was drawn in a straight line. It's eyes took up the majority of the space on this face, large, perfectly shaped circles that glowed with the light of blue grace.

Sam wanted to say something, say anything to express how he was feeling, but instead, all he managed to utter was; "Gabe!... You… You're a lion!"

The sound of Gabriel laughing was nothing like his human vessel's laugh. It was a thousand voices laughing at once. Men, women, children, all of varying ages and tones, united in a soft chuckle, the voice echoing around him as if it was coming from a thousand different places. It made the ground beneath his feet vibrate.

"Do you like me better this way?" A voice asked, and Sam had to choke down a cry of surprise when he heard it. It was  _two_ voices in one. One of the voices was that of a little boy, and the other was deep and stalwart, like that of warrior. It would've normally been creepier beyond belief, but Sam couldn't help but love it.

"Y-Y-y-you… You're gorgeous!" Sam stuttered, unconsciously moving forward towards the creature.

Gabriel lowered his face, the huge head bending down to meet at Sam's level, giant eyes each the size of Sam himself. They blinked at him twice, and Sam noticed it's… eyelids… were just a bunch of galaxies. "Thanks, Sammy," The voices said, "I'm not one to deny a compliment."

Slowly and with shaking hands, Sam reached out and touched the face of his angel, right between his eyes. It felt like warm water beneath him, almost like a liquid despite the fact that it appeared fairly solid. And as soon as he made contact with that face, as soon as he touched the warmth that was Gabriel, he felt all memories of Lucifer disappear. It was conscious and unconscious. It was like soap washing away dirt- he felt the sadness and despair and disgust and every negative emotion that the ex-archangel had left him with disappear, leaving his body and vanishing.

Gabriel made a noise at Sam's contact, something between a groan and a squeak, and all the voices that made up his laughter seemed to gasp in surprise.

Pulling away with a gasp, Sam noticed a handprint where he'd touched, glowing a bright orange. "I-I'm so sorry!" Sam exclaimed hurriedly, "Did I hurt you?"

The handprint glowed brighter for a moment before disappearing into the depths of Gabriel's face, almost like it was being absorbed into his skin… Did he even have skin?

Sam imagined that if the creature could've, it would've shaken its head. "No," He said, "it actually feels… really nice."

Sam swallowed briefly, before laying his palm back on the face once more. "Gabriel… Have you ever grieved Lucifer?" The question left his mouth before he could stop it.  _Where the hell did that come from?_ He thought, surprised at his own inner workings.

Gabriel's mouth twitched downwards slight, the line drooping at the sides. "Yes." He answered honestly, "Every day… How do you know?"

Sam licked his lips rubbing his palm against Gabriel's face subconsciously. "I… I don't know how to describe it. It's like I can… feel your memories, almost. And most of the really early ones are with him, before he fell, I think."

Gabriel was silent, but Sam's heart hurt when he saw the top set of wings droop slightly.

"He was your favorite, wasn't he?" Sam whispered lowly, "You two did everything together, didn't you?" Memories that weren't his own flashed before his eyes, and like watching a movie, he saw that most of them were with Lucifer. They were playing, flying, laughing… It was all joy that emanated like steam from those memories. Gabriel laughed, but it was a sad laugh. Sam could tell because some of the laughing voices were crying instead.

"Everyone loved him. He was the most beloved angel in heaven. Everyone wanted to be like him… Our old man favored him the most, and everyone agreed that he should. That was how admired he was." Gabriel said wistfully, as if he was lost in one of the memories. But there was a layer of indescribably sadness cloaked over them, and Sam suddenly wanted nothing else in the world but to peel it away and make sure the creature only ever felt good things. "We were like you and Dean." Gabriel admitted softly, and the voices in the background made noises of upset, and some of the female voices were weeping.

Sam frowned sadly, and, although he knew he shouldn't, he used his other hand to slowly, ever so slowly, reach out and stroke the long, bone-like finger of the angel's right hand. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry you lost him." He said genuinely. "And I'm sorry no one ever told you they were sorry."

He didn't see, but he felt the other large hand move in strange, slow increments to envelope his entire body, cupping his cheek with the six foot long thumb. The giant palm pushed him closer to the creature's face, and without thinking about it, Sam reached over and hugged the creature's mask-like, humanoid face. It felt like pressing his body against a warm ocean, but he didn't need to come up for breath.

Sam closed his eyes as he leaned into the embrace, and suddenly, within a fraction of a second, he felt the body beneath him shrink. The hands became flesh like again and the face was normal sized and buried in his chest. Now  _he_ was taller than Gabriel, and he knew he'd retreated back to his vessel.

He opened his eyes and they were standing in the bunker again, the warm light gone. Sam was holding Gabriel against his chest, and he reluctantly unwrapped his arms from the angel. Gabriel looked up at him, and surprisingly, there were no tears in his eyes. He was… happy.

"What do you think?" He asked jokingly, "Am I taller than you or what?"

Sam could only laugh. Despite the fact that the apocalypse was on their heels and the weight of the world was on their shoulders. He laughed and laughed, and felt better than he had in years. Maybe this whole grace thing wouldn't be such a bad idea after all...


	3. What Lies Beneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! So this chapter is a bit of a filler, but it's necessary for the progression of the story. Please let me know what you think! Reviews are loved and read!

Sam and Gabriel spent the rest of their time waiting for Dean, Cas, and Rowena to return with Lucifer in the library. Gabriel had his feet up on the table and was flipping through a book about angels, scoffing periodically at the information he'd come across.

"I gotta say, Sam, I don't think the men of letters ever met a real angel." He muttered, fingering a page of the book lightly in amusement.

Sam didn't respond and took a swig of beer he'd opened from the fridge. He tapped the table nervously and his eyes kept wandering to the door, waiting, watching. Although Gabriel had freed him from the constant terrorizing of Lucifer's face, Sam would never forget how deep he fell into depression after encountering the devil. Something terrible always came with Lucifer, and even now, when he knew Cas and Rowena were more than capable of handling him in his weakened state, Sam couldn't help but feel his gut churn with worry.

"Hello? Earth to Samsquatch." Gabriel intoned.

Sam huffed a laugh at the nickname, leaning back in his chair. "What?" He asked distractedly.

Gabriel frowned. "I thought I cured you- can you still see Lucifer's face?" He asked in concern.

Sam shook his head, eyes downcast. "No, I… I can't see him anymore." He murmured truthfully.

"Then why the sad martyr look?" Gabriel wondered aloud, watching the hunter's expression carefully. Since he'd been bonded with Sam, he was able to feel the changing wavelengths of his soul. The one he was currently picking up on was restless and nervous, almost panicky.

Sam turned to the former trickster god, tilting his head in a questioning manner. "Do you honestly think we'll have enough power to bring them down? Lucifer, Michael? Do you  _really_ see any scenario here where we win?" He asked.

Gabriel pursed his lips, hands folded on the table in thought. "I don't know," He said, not looking at Sam, but staring straight ahead, "I really don't… All I know is that my father doesn't do things without reason. We're bound to accomplish  _something."_

Sam chuckled, but he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. Chuck had been gone for a while now, disappeared from heaven. He'd heard all the explanations, all the seeming 'excuses' he could think of. Maybe He needed to step away, maybe things would sort themselves out. But now, all Sam could feel was abandonment. He'd kept the faith in the beginning, when he and Dean had actually met and talked with Chuck. But ever since then, it was one bad thing after another. And his faith was starting to die. "Yeah," Sam scoffed, "I'm sure he's  _real_ concerned about us."

The archangel was still for a moment, and Sam couldn't explain it, but he could  _feel_ Gabriel's sorrow. It was strange, like a tin can telephone tied together with a string, the vibrations crossing from one to the other.

"I've been around for a long, long time, Sammich." Gabriel said wistfully, eyes far off and distant. "I've watched a lot of stuff go down. You'd think I'd learn a thing or two, being around for millenia on end… And I haven't. I always find the things I don't know outnumber the things I do by, like, a million." He said flippantly, drawing a small smile out of Sam, "There've been times where I was  _so sure_ I was right, and it turned out that I couldn't be more wrong. But there's one thing I've always been sure of that's never changed. No matter what, it's always stayed the same. My father does not give up on his children."  
Sam looked up at this, staring at the archangel.

"He may discipline them, when he has to," Gabriel continued before looking back at Sam, "but he  _never_ gives up on them. Even now, he refuses to give up on Lucifer. After everything he's done, after all this time… We can still feel him just… wanting his son to come back."

There was a long pause, both of them deep in thought. "You don't think he's gone?" Sam broke the silence, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He didn't dare hope for anything. Not after losing Dean so many times.

Gabriel smiled sadly at him, whiskey brown eyes deep and thoughtful. "Never did, never will." He murmured.

Before Sam could even begin to reply, there was a flapping of wings and suddenly, Dean, Cas, and Rowena were back in the war room. Sam jumped to his feet, immediately running over to them. His eyes scanned his older brother for injuries on instinct, and finding none, he let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

"Heya, Sam- I hear you and Gabe are an item now." A sarcastic voice drawled out, and Sam froze. Cas and Rowena parted to reveal a slightly disheveled looking Lucifer, his hands bound behind his back. That smug smirk was plastered on his face, and his eyes looked to Gabriel, amused. "What up, bro? Dad finally decide it was high time for you to settle down, find 'the one'?"

"Just call us batman and robin," Gabriel grinned toothily at the devil, "we have that cool partners in crime thing going. Too bad it's not the same with you and your son."

Lucifer's smirk momentarily faltered, and his eyes darkened, an icy movement that made Sam suppress a shudder. Dean roughly shoved the ex-archangel down on a chair, hands still bound behind his back. "You're gonna help us." He snapped, and Cas withdrew an angel blade from his coat.

"What, you're gonna kill me? Not very original, Dean, I gotta say." Lucifer shook his head in mock disapproval.

"No," Sam said venomously, watching from the side as Castiel cut the vessel's neck, revealing the glowing blue grace, "we're gonna drain you. You're going to open the rift and keep it open. Then we'll kill you."

Lucifer laughed with that manic tinge, despite the grace that was steadily flowing out of him. "Man, I gotta say, pop couldn't have picked a better match, Sammy," He rasped, watching Gabriel out of the corner of his eye, "you and my brother both have the tendency to delusions of grandeur. I should caution you, though, acting more powerful than you are never ends well for you." His sunken, darkened eyes moved to the archangel, watching him with an expression that Sam couldn't interpret. "Just ask Gabriel. He knows all about that."

Sam knew he was referring to the archangel's time with Asmodeus, and the hunter felt Gabriel's grace flinch at the mention of the former prince of hell. Even though the bastard was dead, the scars of the horrible things he'd put Gabriel through would linger for a long time. Sam knew from personal experience, and considering the mess the angel was in when he arrived with Ketch, it would take a while before the archangel was back to his old self again.

"Shut up," Dean snapped at Lucifer and shoved him roughly, grabbing his bag and shotgun as they prepared to leave. He looked to Rowena as she recited the spell, the orange glow of the rift crackling like tiny sparks. "Feel free to gag the son of a bitch." He told her.

"With pleasure," the witch murmured, watching Lucifer with fiery eyes.

"C'mon Sam, let's go." Dean said, stepping towards the rift.

Sam loaded his gun and prepared to leave, but hesitated before he could say anything. He could feel Gabriel's grace, and it was  _nowhere near_ ready to fight. It was a strange sensation, something he couldn't easily explain. It was like being able to sense a storm coming- there were factors that gave you indications, but you couldn't actually see it. The fact that Gabriel's grace was so delicate made him on edge, and he suddenly felt the reluctance to go. If something decided to attack them, Gabriel couldn't hold it off for very long.

"Dude, c'mon, we don't have much time." Dean exclaimed, slightly annoyed.

Sam looked at his brother and swallowed nervously. "I… I don't know. Gabe isn't strong enough, can't we wait another day?" He asked, knowing how ridiculous he sounded. He couldn't help but worry about the archangel, and strangely enough, it had nothing to do with the fact that his life was tied to his own.  _What the hell is going on with me?_ He thought to himself, thinking back on all the times Gabriel messed with him and Dean. He had every right to be pissed off at the archangel, but every time he tried, all he could see were those beautiful golden wings and those enormous eyes full of stars. He couldn't feel animosity towards it.

Dean looked at his brother like he'd grown three heads. "Another day?!" He exclaimed, "Jack and Mom are in there, trying to hold whatever's left of the resistance together! If we don't get them out of there soon, they'll die!"  
Gabriel looked at Sam perplexedly, marveling at the hunter's concern for him. "It's nothing worth staying behind for, I'll be fine." He said resolutely.

Lucifer laughed suddenly, loud and grating like he used to when he taunted Sam in Hell. The four men looked at him, and he looked straight at Sam and Gabriel. "You two have no idea what you're capable of, do you?" He asked amusedly, like he was talking about small children learning to count. He turned to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow. "Really, bro? You honestly didn't think about what you and our favorite Sammy here could take down together?"

A look of confusion passed over Gabriel's features momentarily, before he glared daggers at his older brother. "Don't pretend to know things, Luci, you don't wear it well." He said tightly, before stepping through the rift with a reluctant Sam, Dean, and Cas.

Lucifer scoffed, looking at Rowena, who was steadily ignoring him. "Can you believe those two?" He tsked in dismay, "Talk about underestimation."


	4. The Other World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for following this story. This chapter contains a lot of fluff, but if you look closely, you'll see some foreshadowing for the next chapters. Please review and hit that follow button!

The other world was cold, dark, and ultimately, dead. The trees, the leaves, everything looked to be devoid of life. Sam wasn't one to be surprised easily- he  _was_  a hunter, after all, and in he and his brother's line of work, anything goes. But alternate universes, well, that's a whole new level of weird.

They arrived rather clumsily, toppling out of the portal more than landing. Dean stood up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head achingly. Sam was sure their rough arrival did nothing to help the hangover that was still lingering for Dean after last night- he knew that sometimes when the stress of things got to be too much, his brother would down beer after beer before heading to bed. It had gotten better since Cas returned, though.

"Geez, Cas, couldn't you have made it a little smoother?" Dean breathed, dusting himself off and making sure his gun was in tact.

Castiel looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. "I do not understand," he said in his gravelly voice, "I have no control over the workings of inter-dimensional-"

"Yeah, yeah, point is, it sucked," Dean cut him off, "now, where do we start to find Mom and Jack?"

Sam looked at his brother in disbelief. He'd just transported them to an entirely different world, and he had no idea where to even start looking for their family? They were currently surrounded by trees in the middle of forest, and had absolutely no clue which direction to even start in. Sam had long accepted that the inner workings of his older brother's mind were something he'd never understand, but this was different.

Trying to calm himself down before he said something he'd regret, Sam briefly tried closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. But what happened when he did was anything but what he expected. He felt that strange drumming sensation again, the same one he'd felt before witnessing Gabriel's wings. Before he could alert the others, however, he was frozen in place. And as soon as his eyes slid shut, he could instantly  _see everything._ It was almost the same experience he'd had when Jack showed him and Dean what the dreamwalker let him see. Sam was gazing upon the barren land from a bird's eye view, miles and miles of earth before him. His eyes tracked the path from their current location, dashing and ducking at a rapid pace over logs and rocks and foliage, view after view coming into his line of sight. The next thing he knew, he was looking at a small settlement where he finally recognized Jack and their mother.  _How is this possible?_ He thought to himself, trying to quell the growing panic.

The vision ended when he opened his eyes, gasping for breath. Dean, Cas, and Gabriel all looked to him in a mix of worry and confusion. Sam was about to attempt to explain what he'd just seen, but instead, the next words that left his mouth were; "15 miles northeast, take a left at river and across the first hill on the mountainside."

Dean knew he looked like some dumbfounded goldfish, but he couldn't stop his mouth from opening and closing in disbelief. "Sammy, how…" was all he managed.

"I… I don't know, it was like a vision, but… not…." Sam tried to explain, before he was able to finally put two and two together in his head. He looked at Gabriel in shock, eyes wide. "Wait a minute, is that… Is that how you guys see?" He asked.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow in confusion, and Castiel tilted his head to the left as he often did when he was puzzled.

"Angels, I mean," Sam amended, "Is that… Is that how you see the world? You know, far off places? Like, sensing depth and distance but not touch? And everything's kind of… chrome colored?"

Gabriel stared at Sam in awe, realizing that the human was able to tune into so-called 'angel radio' and sense locations on the celestial plane. He knew it was their grace bond, but he was still trying to wrap his head around what exactly that meant. How could Sam be able to access the celestial plane without using some of his grace?  _Surely I'd be able to feel it_ , Gabriel thought dismally,  _I'm weaker than I've ever been after escaping._

"That is the closest you'll be able to come in describing it in human terms, yes." Castiel muttered, deep in thought.

"Wait, Sam can see the path ahead?" Dean asked, turning to his little brother, "What else can you do?"

Sam licked his lips in confusion, looking to Gabriel briefly. "I don't know," he answered honestly, "All I did was think about it, and it happened."

Gabriel inched closer to Sam subconsciously, resting a comforting hand on his substantially taller shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it," he said, "after a while, it'll become second nature. Like having permanent GPS in your brain."

Dean eyed the archangel warily, skepticism and distrust clear in his gaze. "Does this have anything to do with what you did to him?" He demanded, voice tight.

Gabriel frowned at him and folded his arms. " _I_ didn't do anything to him," he countered, "I have no part in any of this. If Sammy here starts seeing things, it's not my doing. I can barely teleport."

Sam could tell that Dean was about to launch into an argument on how he couldn't trust Gabriel, how the archangel expected them to believe a word he was saying after ditching them in TV land and causing Dean to die a thousand times. But after helping Gabriel get back on his feet after Asmodeus, Sam really didn't want the angel to have to deal with anything else. So, he intervened before anything could come of it.

"Dean, let's just go." He murmured, giving his older brother a pleading look before heading off in the direction he saw in his vision. Despite the eerie quiet that surrounded them, Sam couldn't help the feeling that someone, or  _something,_ was watching them. He knew Cas and Gabe had their angel blades out and ready, and he and Dean had their guns, but he just couldn't stop himself from looking over his shoulder every five seconds. And something nagging in the corner of his mind told him that his protectiveness over Gabriel wasn't just because of sympathizing with the tortures of Hell. Ever since Sam had been bonded to him, he'd had this annoying urge to check and make sure that the archangel was safe at all times.  _This is ridiculous,_ Sam thought to himself as they walked,  _the guy is almost 20 stories tall, damn it, he's an_ archangel.  _There's nothing you can do for him that he can't do for himself a thousand times over._ But Sam knew that wasn't true. He'd been the one to cut the stitches from his lips when Gabriel returned with Ketch, he'd watched how weak and broken the archangel had been. Even if he was snapped out of his limbo state, he'd still be vulnerable for a long, long time. And that scared the hell out of Sam.

Desperate to get his mind off of the disturbing thoughts, Sam searched frantically for something to distract himself with. What he ended up saying, however, was  _not_ what he intended. "Hey, Cas, do all angels have five fingers and toes?" He blurted out.

Gabriel laughed amusedly, unable to help himself as he smiled at the innocence of Sam's question.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at his brother and Dean just looked at him like he'd gone off the deep end. "What are you referring to?" He questioned.

"Your true form," Sam said.  _Well, I'm in it now, might as well ask while I'm here._ "Gabe had five fingers and five toes… or, at least, that's what they looked like. Is it like that for everyone?"

Gabriel was still chuckling as Castiel searched for an answer, cocking his head slightly as he faced the hunter. "You saw Gabriel's true form?" He asked.

Sam nodded, watching him carefully. "Yeah- so, what about it? Do you guys all kind of… look like that?"

Dean was asking Gabriel for an explanation as he filled the hunter in on what had happened. Castiel pondered the question for a moment before finally answering. "Angels are made in the image of god, though less so than humans." Cas said, "It would make sense that we shared some similarities in terms of appearances, but our… appendages… are not composed of muscle and bone."

"I know, the exterior is energy and the interior is grace, light, and stardust from the residue of creation." Sam said without thinking, remembering in detail what Gabriel felt and looked like. He couldn't help but smile whenever the image came to mind- it was something, as cliche as it sounds, so beautiful that he barely kept from getting hysterical when he saw it. He watched as he surprised the angel yet again, Cas opening his mouth to compose a reply before Dean interjected.

"Wait, hold up… Cas, you guys have  _toes?"_ He asked, barely containing his laughter.

"And four heads," Sam added, before taking into consideration what he remembered. "Actually, just one head. But four faces. I don't know what yours are, Cas, but Gabe is a lion, a human, an eagle, and I  _think_ a ram?" Sam's tone took on a questioning hint.

"Close, kiddo, buffalo." Gabriel supplied, marching side by side between him and Castiel.

Dean was staring at the three with wide, confused eyes and a sideways smile on his face. "Sam, man, you sure you weren't just tripping instead?" He asked half jokingly, half serious. The words his brother were speaking made less sense to him than any foreign language he'd ever heard.

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Hey, if you don't believe me, ask your own angel." He retorted, and Gabriel couldn't help the small sprout of pride he felt in his chest, Sam's implication being that  _he_ was the younger winchester's angel.

Dean couldn't help himself. He looked to Castiel questioningly, eyebrow raised, before Cas bowed his head as if he was embarrassed. "It is true. Our father created us so we had enough faces to watch all facets of the universe." He admitted, although Sam wasn't sure why he sounded so ashamed. If he looked anything remotely like Gabe, than he was easily one of the most beautiful creatures in the entire universe.

Dean gaped, ignoring Sam as he voiced the words, 'i told ya so'. "What, Cas, so you're a sheep, too?" He couldn't believe he was asking this, but he had to know. He remembered when he first met Cas all those years ago at the gas station, and when he questioned his vessel, Cas had simply told him that it was too 'mighty' for him to comprehend.

"Buffalo!" Gabriel corrected absently, earning a smirk from Sam.

Castiel looked at his feet, and if Sam didn't know better, he'd say the angel blushed a few shades of red. "I… I believe I am a zebra." He said, as if he was confessing something extremely intimate.  _Wait, were trueforms intimate?_  Sam thought absently, never really taking that factor into consideration.

Despite the bleak situation they were facing, Dean's loud laughter echoed through the forest, unable to help himself. Cas, Angel of the Lord, had a  _zebra_ face? There was no way he could not find amusement in that.


	5. Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for your reviews! Keep them coming and enjoy this chapter!

The walk had been going surprisingly smoothly for the last 10 miles. The surrounding forest was quiet, and having only 5 more miles left to go, Sam almost made the mistake of believing that they were going to be fine and get there without a hitch.  _Almost._ Just as Winchester luck would have it, however, they were struck by a group of rogue vampires before they could claim that things went off uneventfully.

It started off as a strange, unpleasant buzzing that began in his fingertips. About 10 minutes before they happened upon the monsters, Sam knew something was wrong. At first he thought it was just his own paranoia, flaring up to bother him like it always did. But then he realized that this was different. This was… real. He stopped, looking over his shoulder, hoping to alleviate the sensation of being watched. He knew he should have said something. Looking back on it now, he knew he could've prevented the entire battle if he'd just trusted his grace bond and said something. But he kept his mouth shut, pegging it as one of his many insecurities that he didn't want to annoy Dean with.

That was when it happened.

The creatures lunged at them from the trees, going from silent to roaring in a fraction of a second. The next moments that passed happened like they were in slow motion, like a flip-book moving before Sam's eyes. He watched as Dean and Cas drew their weapons, taking out as many as they could while he stood there, frozen in place. He doesn't even remember shouting Gabriel's name aloud, even though Dean said he did. No, he never spoke a word. It all happened in… thoughts, more of an idea than physically audible words.

"Gavri'el, I need you," His voice echoed, bouncing within the walls of his own mind. It sounded like what one would hear if they stood on the edge of a canyon and shouted with all their might. His words quickly mixed together with Gabriel's true form voice, that little boy/warrior mix, crying out more than saying; "Samu'el, I need you.". The two voices got louder and louder, drowning out the roaring fight around them. Sam's mind let go of reality, and something of inhuman power burst forth within him before his eyes snapped open, glowing blue with crackling grace. "Shift." He whispered, and without hesitating for even a millisecond, Gabriel immediately became his dragon again.

His impossibly long, golden wings beat ferociously against the air, that  _thwumping_ noise almost deafening. The long flight feathers exuded a dominant gold glow, and his taloned claws shook the ground. Sam didn't bother to watch as Dean and Cas stared up at him with open mouths. He didn't remember climbing up onto Gabriel's back, but he remembers the sensation. The creatures scaly skin should've been rough and unforgiving against his legs, but instead it felt warm and smooth, like freshly dried sheets. Gripping the two glowing horns that protruded from the dragon/bird's head, he lifted himself up just enough to see the hoard of vampires screeching at them, going after Dean and Cas. Protectiveness grabbed hold of him like an iron fist, and, looking to the vampires, he leaned down and whispered to Gabriel, "kill."

It was like a scene out of a Stephen king book, Sam couldn't help but note. In a split second, the dragons mouth opened impossibly wide, revealing rows upon rows of glittering, sharp teeth. The teeth themselves were each the size of Sam's head, more like saber-tooth fangs than anything else Sam had ever seen before. And then, like water bursting through the hull of a ship, flames of pure grace erupted from his mouth. They burnt and disintegrated every vampire in sight, the heat and pure energy of the angelic light causing the air around them to ripple, almost like what Sam remembers seeing over the surface of highways on a hot summer day. The monsters howled in agony before turning to dust, their dark, putrid forms unable to withstand the light of an archangel. In less than a minute, the entire hoard was reduced to ashes, nothing left of them but small flames of residual grace that burned blue on the forest floor. The earth itself was stained with the charred sillouhuettes of where the vampires used to be, serving as a sort of morbid reminder to any other supernatural being that dared cross their path. Gabriel roared loudly and beat his wings one last time, the wind created from his feathers blowing some of the ashes away. Sam felt the sound vibrations of his angel's roar surge beneath the skin he was mounted on, shaking the frame of the dragon.

Trying to catch his breath and feeling suddenly drained, he slid down the dragons shoulder so he stood on the earth once more. Sam swallowed hard, allowing the feeling of energy to leave his body like raindrops rolling off the hood of a car. Still in disbelief at what he, what  _they_  had done, he turned around to check on Dean and Castiel.

His brother and the angel lay knocked on their backs, sufficiently out of breath as they stared at Sam with shocked, wide eyes. Breathing deeply, Sam looked to Dean in concern. "You guys ok? Did any of them bite you?" He asked, hoping the answer was no. The last thing they needed was to stop and search for ingredients for an antidote to vampire blood.

Dean shook his head absently, continuing to stare at Sam while he got to his feet. The thought of what could happen when someone witnessed an angels warrior form jumped to the forefront of Sam's mind, and he peered at Dean in worry. "Wait, Dean, how… how can you still see?" He asked.

"Cas covered my eyes," he replied dazedly, blinking rapidly as if to check that it was true, "But I saw… Sam, for a second, I saw just a little- is he… did you…?"

Sam turned around to check on the creature again, but the dragon was gone, ordinary Gabriel standing before him instead. He too looked just as surprised as the rest of them, staring at Sam like he'd just created the universe.

"Ok, I'll be the one to ask," Dean broke the silence with a slightly quavering voice, looking at his brother and Gabriel, "What the hell just happened?

Castiel shook his head in amazement, blue eyes light. "The legends are true," he said in his monotonous tone, "Gabriel's strength increases with Sam and vice versa."

Dean turned to stare at Sam, who was watching his own hands like they were on fire. "Sammy, you just… there were, like, 50 of 'em, and you… you took them out in under a minute." He said in disbelief. Dean knelt down beside the remains of the vampires, piles of dirt and ash next to small, dying flames of grace. Fingers grazed the ashes lightly, as if needing touch to affirm that what he thought happened actually did.

" _We,_ " Gabriel said from behind Sam, walking over to face Dean, " _we_ took them out. I believe that could be considered a team effort."

Sam looked at his angel in confusion. "Gabe, did you know this could happen?" He asked, not batting an eye at the nickname he subconsciously used.

Gabriel shook his head, brows furrowed in deep thought. "No," he said lowly, "no, I didn't. That shouldn't have even been  _almost_ possible, I'm still low on grace!"

"Not with Sam, you're not," Dean interjected, standing up as the pieces finally came together, "you work off each other… that's why Sammy could see the route ahead, and that's why you could ice those bastards. Sam  _is_ your grace."

Sam tried to close his jaw, but he couldn't help it. He had access to the  _power of an archangel_ , and he himself was said archangels power.  _That's why I can see Gabriel_ , he thought absently to himself,  _I'm a part of him. And he's a part of me._ It sounded like a quote out of a chick flick, but it couldn't be more true. He hated even thinking the thought, but the idea wouldn't stop rolling over in his brain.  _Maybe Lucifer was right… maybe we were underestimating our power._  He briefly thought back to what Rowena had said, about the two of them possibly being enough to take out Michael. He wanted to believe so badly that could be true, wanted to believe that he and Gabriel would be enough. But fear and doubt clawed at him like a hellhounds paws, keeping him from voicing the thought.

"We have to tell Mom and jack about this," Dean said abruptly, as if reading his brother's mind. Gabriel's jaw worked up in down, and his expression was conflicted. Dean turned so that he was looking at Sam, "you and Gabriel, you can drive Michael back."

Sam's eyes widened at the idea of taking on someone as powerful as Michael, let alone the Other Michael, who was supposedly even worse than the one they knew. He glanced briefly at Gabriel, who appeared to be thinking the same thing.

"No," Sam started, trying to keep the trembling from his voice, "no, Dean, it would never work. We need to stick to the original plan, grab as many people as we can, and leave Michael here."

"I agree with Sasquatch over here," Gabriel said jokingly, garnering a raised eyebrow from Dean at the odd nickname, "I know we just kicked some serious ass, but those were vampires. Little marionettes, puppets compared to the  _puppetmaster._ I'm still not myself, going up against Michael now would be suicide."

They were all silent for a moment, deep in thought. The new option weighed on them like a brick, despite the fact that it might be an answer to their problems.  _Problems,_ Sam thought in bitter amusement to himself,  _we never solve them, just switch out one set for a different one._

" _Couldn't agree more, kiddo,"_ a voice rang out in his head, so clear that he momentarily believed it was spoken out loud. He whirled around to look at Gabriel, eyes skeptical.

_Gabe,_ he thought,  _is that… are you… ?_

" _Sorry- does it weird you out to talk like this? Cas hates it when I get in his head."_ Gabriel's mind voice murmured, tone apologetic. Sam worked his jaw, wanting to reply, but before he could get the chance Cas spoke up.

"Dean is right," he said decidedly.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked, frowning at Cas, "Are you serious?"

Castiel sighed deeply, folding his arms like he always did when he was unsure of himself. "I do not like the idea of it, but you and Gabriel have enough strength to kill him. You won't do it alone, of course, all of us will help." He tried to assure.

Gabriel shook his head stubbornly, and he cast a brief glance at Sam with a look of… concern? "I'm all for getting rid of my dick brother, but why put ourselves at an unnecessary risk?" He asked, "Sam's right, we seal him off and leave him to rot in bizarro land."

Dean scoffed, tilting his head slightly. "Since when do things just stay put?" He asked mirthlessly, "Sealing him here was our only option. But are you seriously gonna tell me that I'm the only one who believes that douche won't find another way,  _some way_ to come back to our world?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but was struck silent at the realization that Dean was right. Things always come back to them in the end. He felt like he should've known that from experience, but a part of him wanted to believe that leaving Michael here would be the end of it. It wouldn't, though. He knew that. Things like Michael only stopped when you blew out the candle, when you put a stop to them once and for all… when you killed them. His stomach churned at the thought of going up against Michael, even though he knew it would ensure the safety of his family, and suddenly, he felt very,  _very_ selfish.  _Look at me,_ he thought pathetically,  _I have a chance to save the world, and I'm second guessing it because I'm afraid… Maybe I deserve to go back to hell, after all._

" _You'll never go back to Hell, Sammy,"_ Gabriel's voice said, causing Sam to look up in surprise, " _I'll make sure of it."_

He was still staring at Gabriel when Dean snapped him out of his trance, announcing that they'd talk it over when they found Mom and Jack. They kept moving through the forest, following Sam's previous instructions, leaving the burnt vampires behind.

"Sam?" A voice asked from behind, and Sam jumped in surprise. He turned to see Gabriel who came to walk up beside him, "Are you ok?"

Sam swallowed, forcing a pathetic smile. "Yeah," He answered.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look, face almost curious as to why Sam would even try to fool him when he knew he could see through the charade. Sam sighed heavily, looking to the ground as they walked. "No," he admitted with a tired grin, "no, I'm not."

Gabriel exhaled in mock relief. "Good, 'cause if any of us was OK with any of this, there'd something seriously wrong with them." He muttered, causing the corner of Sam's lips to twitch upwards. "I'm sorry for telepathing you earlier." The arch angel said abruptly, unable to meet Sam's eyes, "It wasn't cool of me to just invade your brain like that. I won't do it again."

Sam frowned confusedly at the smaller man. "Why? It wasn't bad. Just… weird. Like talking and thinking…"

"Like talking and thinking had sex and that's their messed up lovechild?" Gabriel asked mischievously, and Sam couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his mouth at that. He felt Gabriel's grace brighten slightly when he chuckled, laughing at his ridiculous analogies.

"Yeah, something like that." Sam agreed, stepping over the remains of what looked like a cabin that had been destroyed in battle long ago.

"You're sure that you're not… you know… mad about us being stuck together?" Gabriel blurted out, "I know that we haven't always been best pals in the past, and I know I was acting st-"

"Gabriel," Sam interrupted the rambling angel, causing him to stop speaking. Sam looked at him with warm eyes that said,  _everything is water under the bridge,_  a half smile tugging at his mouth, "get over yourself."

The angel smiled, a genuine, non-joke backed smile, and Sam had to pause because he thinks that was the first time he'd ever seen the archangel smile without mirth or any other ulterior motive. It was odd to see, but wonderful all the same. He felt Gabriel's grace nudge his soul playfully, a feeling that could only be described as ticklish. He grinned at his feet before pushing Gabriel's grace back, two celestial beings playing at each other like kids on a playground. Sam was taken aback by a moment, realizing that he was the kid. He often forgotten just how old Gabriel and Cas and all the angels were. He was  _so much_ older than Sam, knew  _so much more,_  yet all they'd ever done was fight either against or with each other. Sam's mind was suddenly filled with questions, so much more than he could voice at once. He wanted to ask Gabriel every single one of them in due time, but his thoughts were interrupted when he looked up and saw that they had arrived.

A small, barely-held-together settlement with a campfire in the middle, bustling with people was before them. Then, a familiar voice called out, "Sam, Dean? Is that you?"

Dean looked up and Sam's eyes widened. "Mom?"


	6. Sin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for your reviews and for continuing to follow this story- The action will be starting soon! Please like and review!

The reunion was bittersweet- both hunters were ecstatic to see their family again, but the happiness was dampened by their bleak situation. Sam tried to take comfort in the fact that they could at least talk to Bobby again, but no matter how much the two were similar, this wasn't  _their_ Bobby. Logically, he knew they'd never see their Bobby again. But it still did little to comfort him.

Jack had noticed the grace bond right away. He'd ran out of Bobby's house, dashing over to Sam in Gabriel with that smile on his face that reminded Castiel so much of Kelly Kline.

"Sam, Gabriel," He said, "I knew you would find us! I am so glad my grandfather chose for you to fight together."

Sam blushed, unable to get used to the feeling that everyone thought they were a couple. Dean had so far refrained from teasing him about it, but he knew that was only because his brother was still on edge about the grace bond. Sam didn't blame him, though. Dean could only judge Gabriel based on what he'd done to them in the past; he wasn't able to see what Sam saw, know the archangel on such a prime level.

"Yeah, you could call it a match made in heaven," Gabriel joked, and Sam gave him a look that clearly said,  _not funny._

"Sam, is this true?" Mary asked, walking over to her youngest son. Cas and Dean had mostly filled them in on what had happened, but Sam was nervous. He didn't think he could explain what they shared if his life depended on it. There were no words on earth that could describe how their bond  _really_ worked. The closest thing Sam could think of was brothers, but then again, that wasn't quite it, either.

Sam nodded, searching his mother's gaze for any signs of disapproval, "Yeah… But I don't know if we can take out Michael." He said hurriedly, desperate to at least get that message across.

Mary smiled knowingly, laying a lily white hand on his arm. "I know, Sam, it's ok. We'll think of something." She assured, trying to calm him before glancing at Gabriel. "You're Gabriel, aren't you?" She asked skeptically.

Gabriel grinned, spreading his palms out. "In the flesh." He replied, his trickster mirth tenable.

Mary gazed at him intently, as if trying to read his motives. She was, to say the very least, wary of any angel. "What about the poor guy you're wearing?" She asked in a hard voice, gesturing to his vessel, "is he still around, or do you also have no problem killing humans?"

Sam half expected Gabriel to snark back a reply, but instead, the archangel only shook his head. "Actually," he said calmly, "I didn't steal anyone for a vessel. My dad made me this body when I took my first trip to earth. It was, well, a  _long_ time ago, but I've managed to take care of him. Unlike my siblings, I actually  _care_ about appearances." He said.

Mary and Sam both shared a look of surprise, staring at him. "Wait, so you've managed to keep this vessel for billions of years?" Sam asked in disbelief, "How did you make it last so long?"

Gabriel shrugged, "Think of it like my version of Dean's impala," he said nonchalantly, "I'm borderline obsessive on keeping him up and running. If we're getting technical, though, I give him a once-over with my grace every couple of years. Keeps the decades from catching up, if you know what I mean."

Although Mary still seemed suspicious, she bought what Gabriel said and gave him a curt nod. "Well, I'm Sam's mother. My name is-"

"Mary Winchester, born on July 18th, 1958, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your blood type is A positive, your favorite color is green, and when you were pregnant with Sam, your main craving was smoked kielbasa." Gabriel interrupted and finished, looking proud of himself as he reveled in the shock on both the Winchester's faces.

"How do you…" Mary trailed off in awe.

"Oh, don't worry, it's not weird," Gabriel assured, making Sam huff in exasperation, "I know about everyone. I'm sort of the angel of children- assigned, believe me, I didn't choose it- And, since humans are really just kids who got taller, my dad has this thing about sending me info on people all the time. I kind of archive it away." He grinned and turned to Sam, whose mouth was struggling to stay closed, "I also know that Sam's first crush was on Anna Wilkins in the second grade."

The hunter balked, opening his mouth to tell the angel to promptly shut up, when Other Bobby rushed over to them. "Hey, Chatty Kathies!" He barked impatiently, "We got a problem."

* * *

Lucifer's arrival was something none of them were prepared for. Sam felt his stomach twist when he first caught sight of his former tormentor. He knew Lucifer's end game: win over Jack and take everything for himself. But Jack was young and naive, and although everyone else could see the fallen angel's motives, Jack could not. It made Sam's head feel fuzzy just thinking about it. Losing Jack was not an option, not even something they would consider let happen. Despite their efforts to keep the two apart, however, Jack seemed intent on getting to know his father, and there was nothing they could do.

Night was falling quickly, and Dean kept pacing back and forth through the salvage yard to think of a way to save as many people as they could before the rift closed. He'd originally wanted Sam to go inside and discuss plans with him, but then remembered that stupid bond. If he had Gabriel stationed outside guarding the place, that meant he could get hurt, and in turn, Sam would follow. Bobby and he had concluded that the safest plan was to keep them in the same place at all times, much to Sam's protest. He loathed the idea of being stuck and unable to go as he pleased, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Gabriel that. He couldn't really harbor any ill will towards the archangel, not after seeing his true form and realizing that all he was was beauty and light.  _I wonder if this grace bond messes with my mind,_ Sam thought to himself absently, making him remember the time he'd fallen for Becky after she'd used that love potion on him. He certainly wasn't in love with Gabriel, but could the bond have the same sort of effect? Make him feel more at ease than he naturally would? The hunter shuddered at the thought of having any altered state of consciousness, and hoped it was simply him being enamoured at the sight of such inconceivable perfection.

"Sorry you're stuck out here with little old me." Gabriel said casually, twirling his blade in his hands, "Must be boring." The two sat around a small fire that some of the other refugees had made in an old oil barrel. Sam's angel killing gun rested on his knees as he leaned up against some ancient rusted truck that Bobby had sitting around.

"It's not like there's much else to do." Sam replied, watching Lucifer out of the corner of his eye warily, "We need to get these people back to the rift and I won't let Michael's pension for ambushing get in our way of that."

Gabriel quirked a sarcastic smile, eyes thoughtful. "That's my big bro for ya," He murmured, before his smile faded to a frown, "my awful, dick bro."

Sam wanted to say something to comfort Gabriel. He couldn't imagine having a brother turn on him, abandon him and their family like that. He wanted to laugh at the irony of it.  _What do you call ditching Dean for Stanford, idiot?_ But there really wasn't anything to counter Gabriel's remarks. So, Sam settled for saying, "Tell me about your brothers… before everything happened, I mean."

Gabriel frowned at him, confused. "What's there to tell?" He asked.

Sam huffed. "I don't know, what were they like? Were they strict, fun? I already know you were the class clown." He said, crossing his arms.

The archangel scoffed at that, but the corner of his lips twitched in a half grin. "I guess you could say I was the most fun." He admitted, before tilting his head to the side, trying to remember what his life was like all those eons ago, "Michael, he was… he was serious. Always the obedient guy- teacher's pet, if you will."

"So, he lived to please?" Sam asked, looking off towards the shed where Dean, Bobby, and Mom were gathered. "Sounds like someone else I know." He murmured, the image of Dean following their father like a lap dog coming to his mind.

But Gabriel shook his head in the negative. "Actually, no, not really… He followed orders, but he did what he wanted. He never really cared what anyone else thought. He just wanted to do what he was told and do it better than anyone else could." Images flew before the angel's eyes as he recalled when he was younger. Soft vanilla skies, his brother's enormous wings, the laughter of his siblings… back when everyone was happy, back before their father had created humans and Lucifer fell from grace. Back when it was just so simple.

Sam sighed softly, looking at his shoes. "I'm sorry. For what happened, I mean." He murmured, not willing to look Gabriel in the eyes. He didn't need to. He felt the angel's grace flutter in surprise.

"Why are you sorry?" Gabriel asked lowly.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds. "It just sounds like you guys were all happy before humans came around," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "you were happy, and we ruined it."

Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise, and he swallowed thickly. No human he'd ever spoken to had even thought something like that. Granted, he'd never talked to any human about his family before, but still, the admission shocked him.  _Is this really what he thinks?_ Gabriel thought sadly,  _that things would have been better off it they'd never existed?_ The archangel felt something in his grace start to bounce, like a rubber ball going restlessly from wall to wall. Angels didn't feel, they weren't supposed to have emotions. But when Sam said that, a memory he didn't even know he had came to the forefront of his mind. He remembers his father's voice, all those years ago, when he'd announced to his children his new creation.  _They will be called man, and you are to love them more than you love me._ Love was an emotion. They were supposed to love humans. But what had that even meant? It was a foreign concept to the angels, at least in the sense of human-love. Their father  _was_ love. They were content not to feel anything as long as they were near him. They felt fulfilled, complete. They were used to being loved, but they were not used to loving.

"You didn't ruin it," Gabriel said roughly, looking at Sam with a sad smile, "you made it better."

Sam furrowed his brows and shook his head, confused, "Are you kidding? We're a mess! Everything we touch falls apart, we fight and we kill and we… we sin, right?" He asked, suddenly desperate to know.

Gabriel laughed bitterly at the word. "Sin," he repeated hollowly, "what do  _angels_ know about sin? My siblings think themselves above you, but isn't pride a sin?"

The dead trees blew silently around the camp, causing the fire to flicker a bit. Sam didn't say anything.

"Our father told us once what it meant to sin." Gabriel said flatly, "But we've all forgotten. I've forgotten, it was so long ago. I don't even know the meaning of the word anymore." He muttered, eyes almost… sad? He looked at Sam, eyes wide and suddenly full of a great sorrow. Sam had never seen that expression on an angel before, not even Castiel, and it nearly left him breathless.

"Humans didn't ruin my family, Sammy," he repeated, looking Sam square in the eye, "You've gotta believe that. We ruined ourselves. And you were the best thing that ever happened to us."

Sam blinked, his lips thin as he stood stoically, taking in those words.

Gabriel's gaze was far away, like he was lost in a memory. But it must've been a happy one, because his smile was genuine. "I used to- my sister and I- we used to sing to Adam and Eve." He recalled fondly, hands clasped together.

"Sing?" Sam croaked, still speechless but puzzled nonetheless.

Gabriel nodded almost imperceptibly. "Your souls… human souls are so bright, so warm, they're addictive. We wanted to be around them as much as we could. So, before Adam and Eve… fell… we'd spend hours, days, really, just sitting with them in the garden. It sounds like one of the most cliche things ever, but… they liked it."

Sam breathed a slightly hysterical laugh, not knowing what to say in the slightest. An angel had basically just told him the meaning of life. What do you even say to that? He couldn't think of a word if his life depended on it, so he just stood there, frozen to the ground. He couldn't describe it, but he felt more at peace than he had been in a long, long time. And it was strange- they were standing guard outside a compound, in a world invaded by malevolent all-powerful beings, with the fucking  _devil_ staying with them. But Sam couldn't say he felt anything other than peace. He didn't even notice when he started to fall asleep, the angst filled days of the past week finally catching up to him. He knew Dean would come rushing out at any moment with a plan, tell him to quit being a girl and wake up, but he let himself have just this one moment.

He didn't even flinch when he realized that he wasn't sleeping against a rusty truck, but against a warm body of glowing scales, the feeling of feathers tucked around him.


	7. Narrow Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger, but it's an important segway in the story. Please hit that review button and tell me what you think! Thanks so much and enjoy! (disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters).

As expected, Sam's blissful slumber didn't last long. Within 15 minutes of dozing off, Dean barreled out of the shed with Bobby and Mom on his toes, armed with a somewhat questionable and extremely risky plan.

"Wait a minute, Dean, you're talking about getting  _all_ of these people to the rift?" Sam reiterated for the seventh time since he'd heard his brother's idea.

Dean was fiddling with the engine of an old school bus that Other Bobby had come across, trying to get the broken down vehicle to somehow run again. He sighed deeply, resting his elbows on the hood. "You gotta better idea?" He asked, green eyes flicking up to face his brother.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. "No, but, look," he thrust his phone towards Dean, showing the timer that Sam had set since Lucifer arrived. He was locked away in warded cuffs, but that still did little to quell the fears of everyone in sight. He'd given the boys a rough estimate of how long his grace would keep the portal open, and, assuming he wasn't lying (which was a grand testament in Sam's book), they'd only have 36 hours to get back to the real word. His phone had been ticking ever since, and they were now down to one hour. "How are we even going to get everybody there in time? It's like, a 30 minute drive, assuming this thing even runs!"

Dean pursed his lips, reaching for a gear in the engine. "Like I said, when you think of a better idea, tell me. Why don't you ask your new best friend for inspiration?" He grumbled, the last part so low that Sam wasn't even sure he heard right.

Sam frowned, eyes narrowing. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked sharply, taken by surprise at Dean's comment.

Dean closed the hood of the bus with a loud bang, facing his brother with folded arms. "It means that I think you let this guy get into your head way too quickly." He said gruffly, face drawn tight with lines of exhaustion.

Sam shook his head in frustration, eyeing Dean angrily. "Gabriel didn't  _do_ anything! Neither of us did, it just happened!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, well maybe you were too quick to let it happen." Dean snapped, "He's an angel, Sam, and no matter what you think, we can't trust him."

"But we can trust Cas." Sam retorted fiercely.

"We  _know_ Cas!" He fumed, "All we know about Gabriel is that he screwed us over in the past and you wanna make him hero of the year?"

Sam took a deep breath, trying not to say something he would regret.  _He doesn't know,_ he kept thinking to himself,  _go easy on him, he's just worried about you. He doesn't know._ "I know this is… unexpected, weird, even for us," Sam started, keeping his voice calm, "but I wouldn't be ok with this if I didn't think Gabriel really wanted to help."

Dean looked at him for a moment with an emotion in his eyes that Sam couldn't read. For a second, it looked like he was going to agree with Sam, but he shut his mouth as soon as he opened it. "We leave in 5 minutes." He said roughly, walking away to meet up with Bobby.

Sam closed his eyes and sighed, upset firmly planted in his chest. He knew Dean wasn't anywhere near accepting of this. He didn't think it would be, but having Dean's simple approval on the grace bond mattered a lot to Sam. He was bound to Gabriel for life, they'd die together, this wasn't something that just went away. And if Dean thought he could undo this, nothing good would come of it. A small part of Sam wondered if it was possible that Dean was jealous. It sounded stupid, and Sam knew it probably wasn't true at all, but he couldn't deny that he himself had felt that way when they first met Cas. Obviously he adored the angel now, who'd become part of their family after years of keeping up with their antics, saving their lives. His quirky innocence and endearing traits were just part of what made him so important to them. But Sam knew that no matter how much Dean denied it, he and Cas did share a 'profound bond' as the angel had put it. And at first, it bothered Sam. He'd been embarrassed at himself for weeks, ashamed that he was feeling like a petulant little kid who'd gotten the attention shifted from them to a new baby. The jealousy faded over time, especially after Sam saw how much Cas cared about him as well, not just Dean.

But this was different. With Gabriel, it wasn't just a profound bond. It was his soul that was bound to the angel. The very core of what made Sam  _Sam_ was permanently intertwined with the former trickster. There was no getting around this, despite the brother's consistency at cheating death.

"You ready to head out, Samshine?" A voice came from behind, startling him out of his thoughts.

Sam huffed, grabbing his backpack and his gun. "Will you stop with the nicknames?" He asked, eyebrow raised at the absurd things the archangel had taken to calling him.

Gabriel smirked, his golden eyes mischievous. "Never." He protested, looking up at the bus. "Looks like your big bro thought it was a good idea to let Lucifer drive." He said casually, gesturing to the driver's seat.

Sam balked momentarily, seeing that the ex-archangel was indeed behind the wheel. He was acting blase about the entire situation since he arrived, but Sam knew it was only a matter of time before the facade faded and the  _real_ motive came out. That was what he did, after all. Charm people by telling them what they wanted to hear, the naive souls unaware of the vile, endless darkness that lurked beneath the mask. All Sam could do was pray that their plan worked- that they could seal Lucifer and Michael behind without having to put up a fight. Mom had convinced Cas, Dean, and Other Bobby to agree to leaving the archangels stranded, abandoning the idea of having Sam and Gabriel finish them off for good. Sam knew he should've been relieved at the news, but a small part of him kept thinking about what dean had said earlier. ' _Since when do things just stay put?'_. It made the young hunters stomach churn. He didn't even know what Gabriel felt about the situation, his grace had been unusually quiet and Sam hadn't bothered to try and get a vibe from him. He had a feeling that Gabriel was nervous, though- the archangel kept discreetly looking to the sky, as if he was expecting his brother to burst in on them at any moment.

"He can't get far, not with his grace being as depleted as it is." Gabriel muttered, bringing Sam back to the present. The archangel was unsure who he was trying to reassure more- Sam or himself.

" _Your_  grace is depleted." Sam pointed out, voice raising over the roar of the bus as it's engine finally kicked into life.

Gabriel shrugged sheepishly. "What can I say? I like livin' on the edge." He joked, earning a scoff from Sam.

"That's an understatement," Sam said half amused, "you barely made it away from Asmodeus and now you're here, ready to fight an army of weird, Michael-loyal angels."

Gabriel climbed up into the Jeep that they would drive to the rift, guarding the bus full of passengers, "' _ready'_ is a strong word," he said nonchalantly, "more like 'wing-it'."

Dean made his way over to the driver's seat with Bobby, shotgun resting on his knee as he took the wheel. The archangel noticed Sam tense at his older brothers presence, but decided not to mention anything. It would have been easy to read Sam's mind to find out what happened between the two, but he remembered his promise of never invading his thoughts again and quickly dismissed that idea.

"Sam, give us a time check, son." Other Bobby said gruffly, adjusting his hat as Dean shifted the Jeep into drive.

Sam glanced at his phone and swallowed nervously, trying not to let his apprehension show. "32 minutes and 41 seconds," he read. Truthfully, he didn't even need to look at his phone to know. He'd been obsessively glancing at his timer the entire day, and had the countdown burned into his brain.

"Hell, then, let's go! Drive, boy!" Other Bobby exclaimed, slapping dean on the back as he hit the gas, driving through the barely marked path in the woods.

As they approached the rift, trees flying by like tall, withered guards, Sam felt the familiar thrumming in his chest. Panicking, he tried to think clearly. Maybe he was just imagining things- the lack of sleep must be getting to me, he thought. But then it kept thrumming, vibrating through his chest until he could no longer deny it. Something was coming.

"Sam." Gabriel warned, looking at the hunter nervously, clearly feeling what he was feeling.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the Jeep getting put in park, the bus stopping a few feet behind them, Dean's loud voice barking directions to the refugees. "Ok, everybody, let's move! Single file, let's go!" He ordered, watching as the people filed out of the bus and marched through the rift, the crackling yellow portal swallowing them into thin air.

"Dean," Sam called, climbing out of the Jeep and running over to him, "something's wrong."

Dean frowned at him, hands unconsciously tightening around his gun. "What?" He asked in concern, casting a glance around the forest.

"Sam!" Gabriel called again, the thrumming beginning to get louder and louder. It grate on his soul like nails on a chalkboard would to someone's ears, unbearably uncomfortable.

"Who is it?" Sam breathed, helping Gabriel off the tall Jeep. His stomach dropped as he saw the dread in those honey colored eyes.

"Michael." Gabriel whispered, as if he was afraid to speak the name out loud. As if saying the very word would make him arrive quicker.

Sam's eyes widened, and without thinking, he stood up on the hood of the Jeep, towering over all the refugees. "Everyone run, now!" He shouted, causing the people to look up in fear, "Hurry, go!" He yelled again, and the line moved faster, people started sprinting instead of marching into the rift. He felt like some desperate shepherd, trying to herd his flock of sheep away from an oncoming storm.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" Dean demanded, trying to read Sam's expression as he jumped down from the car.

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but he only got a syllable out before a loud bang shook the earth, dirt and smoke flying out in all directions. They instinctively hit the ground, hands covering their heads. Before Sam closed his eyes, he flicked his gaze over to the rift, and felt a small sense of relief as he watched the last person successfully cross over.

He felt a warm weight on top of him, and he looked in surprise to see that Gabriel had shielded him with his body, chest pressed against Sam's back in an attempt to block some of the debris. It was instinctive, something the angel didn't even have to think about.

The dust cloud began to fade when the sound dissipated, and they cautiously lifted their heads, looking up to see the familiar shadow of wings. This time he could feel Gabriel's grace, but it wasn't buzzing with fear. It was angry. A strong, deep, powerful shroud of anger that had a different feel to it. Sam couldn't describe sensations as colors, but if he could, this one would be red.

Dean got to his feet shakily, not missing a beat as Gabriel helped Sam up. Cas looked at them worriedly, drawing his angel blade from his coat. "We must leave. Now." He said direly.

"Really, bro?" They all turned to see Lucifer walking up to Michael, arms crossed, "You shouldn't try to play the hero, you don't wear it well."

They watched from the side as Michael smirked bitterly, tilting his head at the remark. "You really want to do this again, Lou?"

Lucifer glanced at them with an unreadable glint in his eye, gaze lingering for barely a fraction of a second before he looked back at Michael. His ever present smugness was stronger than ever, and he gave the archangel a mocking smile. "Yeah." He sighed briefly, before shoving Michael with that incomprehensible force that all the angels seemed to have.

"Quickly, while they're distracted," Cas hissed, gesturing to the portal. Dean looked at the two brawling brothers one last time before turning to the rift, grabbing his gun and preparing to leave. Sam started walking after him, when he realized that Gabriel was still at the forefront of the clearing, staring at Lucifer and Michael with wide eyes.

" _Gabriel, what are you doing, c'mon!"_ He spoke telepathically, not wanting to alert the others of their escape.

He got no response, and with a startling realization, noticed that he couldn't detect Gabriel's grace, either. The lack of connection left an emptiness in his chest, and Sam suddenly felt like his lungs were robbed of air.

Heart threatening to beat out of his chest, Sam ran over and roughly grabbed Gabriel by his jacket, dragging him towards the rift. This got his attention, and he turned to Sam with what could only be described as horror in his eyes. His grace suddenly came back with full force, and Sam barely suppressed a gasp at how frantic it was, like troubled water rippling in a storm. It in turn knocked his soul off kilter, the feeling of upset and disturbance rumbling through his very core like a ruthless earthquake. He inhaled sharply, clutching at his chest in an attempt to quell the awful sensation. The quaking of Gabriel's grace was beginning to make him dizzy, and his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He opened his mouth to scream? Shout? Ask Gabriel what was going on? But before he could utter a word, he felt Dean's strong hand take his arm in an iron grip, and he tightened his hold on Gabriel as they fell through the rift. The brief feeling of falling made his stomach flip, but as soon as it started, it ended.

They tumbled to the ground of the bunker, panting heavily as the rift closed behind them. Dean was saying something, the chatter of everyone was echoing through the bunker, and Cas was asking a multitude of questions that Sam couldn't understand. He didn't register anything around them except for Gabriel's golden eyes, staring at him desperately with a haunted expression.

" _He's going to come back."_ Gabriel breathed his thought, echoing into Sam's mind with a hollow sense of terror, " _I saw what he wants to do, Sammy… He's going to come back."_

Sam felt his stomach drop in panic, unable to form words. His soul was still shaking with the aftershocks of Gabriel's grace, and the dizziness he'd been experiencing was only getting worse. The last thing he remembered was grasping Gabriel's hand, before his world faded to black.


	8. Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know these updates are coming quick, but when you got the writing bug, they tend to do that! Please comment and leave your thoughts! Thanks again for reading!

When Sam woke up, he was alone in his room at the bunker. His eyes opened slowly, a headache pounding like a kettledrum against his temples. It took a few moments, but soon the memories came flooding back to him. The rescue, the rift, and… Gabriel. He remembered the awful feeling of pushing and pulling at his soul when Gabe's grace went haywire, a sensation he had never felt before. It was a part of his soul, so it wasn't physical… but it was. His head ached and if he hadn't of passed out first, he was sure he would have thrown up.

Sitting up slowly, he reached up a hand to soothe his aching temples.

"I told Dean you got dizzy from crossing over." A voice out of the silence said, causing Sam to jolt in surprise as he whirled around. Gabriel sat perched on a chair in the corner of the room, staring intently at Sam, "'Cause you and I need to talk."

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm his frayed nerves. "Gabriel, I… I'm a little confused," He managed, furrowing his brows as he tried to recall as much as he could. His grace. Gabriel's grace practically erupted, throwing him into shock, "what happened to you back there?"

Gabriel sighed, carding a hand through his hair wearily. He paused a moment before answering Sam's question. "I read his mind." He said plaintively.

"Who?" Sam asked, although he didn't really need to hear it.

"Michael." Gabriel replied, screwing his eyes shut before opening them again, "If an angel  _really_ wants to, they can bind a teeny portion of their grace to someone else's for a minute. Long enough to see what they see, know what they know… And I saw what he plans to do-"

"I felt it." Sam cut in, "Your grace, I mean. When it left, it felt… awful."

Gabriel smiled tiredly, the grin not reaching his eyes. "Sorry 'bout that, kiddo. I know it's not a pleasant feeling."

Sam licked his lips apprehensively before regarding the angel in hesitation. "What did you see?" He questioned.  _It can't be true,_ he kept chanting to himself,  _we're here, we're safe, everything's going ok. It can't be true._

There was a long stretch of silence before Gabriel answered. "He's going to nuke this world, Sam. Destroy it, everything on it. He's going to leave a few people alive and start some messed up new world order. Totalitarian, horrible… genocide. But he thinks it's righteous." The archangel shuddered just thinking about it, not wanting to relive the visions that had flashed through his eyes in the other world. It was vile, cruel, and all in all,  _disturbing._ It was disturbing how someone, let alone an archangel, could twist the word of their father so badly. It was a version that wasn't even close to what their father had told them all those eons ago. It was warped and whittled to the point where it didn't even  _almost_ make sense anymore, like looking into a cracked mirror and seeing a mirage of mismatched pieces.

Sam swallowed, trying not to let his panic show, before shaking his head in denial. "But that's impossible!" He uttered, "We sealed him away, him  _and_ Lucifer! They're stuck there!"

Gabriel shook his head gravely, normally playful eyes somber. "No, they're not," he murmured darkly, "he has a plan. A deal with Lucifer or something."

The young hunter pursed his lips, flustered and confused. "Wait, what deal? With Lucifer? What's the trade?" He queried.

Gabriel frowned, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't know. I was only strong enough to sustain the reading for a few seconds. I didn't catch any details." He admitted.

A chorus of laughter sounded from outside, the crowd of refugees mingling with Rowena and the others as Bobby was presumably giving some kind of speech. Sam's heart broke a little when he realized that they were celebrating. They were celebrating, after everything they'd endured, and it wasn't even over yet. Not even close. He looked back at Gabriel, shaking his head in horror. "We can't let that happen," he implored, "not now, not with everyone safe. We have to tell Dean, we have to do something."

"We can't tell anyone!" Gabriel insisted hurriedly, "What do you think's gonna happen if we tell them what I saw? Dean and Castiel are going to march back there, guns blazing, and get killed for good. I'm telling you, Sammy, this guy does  _not_ mess around. He's nothing like the Michael we knew."

"Well, we can't just do nothing!" Sam exclaimed in frustration, "We have to tell someone, we have to stop this!"

Gabriel looked away for a moment, and Sam's exhausted soul felt a small bump as the angel's grace nudged it. He inhaled a long breath before saying, "The way I see it, there's only one shot we have at stopping him." He said quietly.

Sam opened his mouth to demand what it was, before the answer hit him. Rowena's words echoed absently in the back of his mind; " _You and Gabriel have enough strength to take him down…"_. Images of the golden dragon with powerful amber wings flashed through his head like a movie, that power only growing when Sam focused and combined his with Gabriel's. The commands, the vampire slaying, everything. "It's us, isn't it?" He stated more than asked, voice dry.

Gabriel nodded numbly, unable to look at the human. He stared at a speck on the wallpaper instead. "I don't see any other way, Sammich, and I saw enough. With a little luck,  _we_ might have a chance at taking Michael out." He emitted, folding his palms together. The rest of the sentence went unspoke.  _Or, more than likely, we'll die stopping him._

Sam closed his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid. A fight against someone as powerful as Michael had a 50-50 outcome. Either they got taken out, or the enemy did. And no amount of planning could change that result.  _Dean will kill me if I keep him in the dark about this,_ he thought absently. It was true. If he and Gabriel went out on a solo mission without letting any of them know, he was sure to cause his older brother a hell of a lot of heartache and worry.

But the alternative was worse. In his heart of hearts, Sam knew Gabriel was right. Even Dean and Cas, the fighters and strong men that they were, couldn't stop this Michael. He was unsure about Jack and his power, but there was absolutely no way that he would involve a child in this, even if he did have the grace to stop him. If Dean or anyone else got involved, they'd almost surely end up as casualties.

"Whatever you choose to do, Sammy," Gabriel said suddenly, gazing at Sam earnestly, "I'm with you."

Sam felt his chest tighten as he managed a small smile, wondering what he could have done to deserve this beautiful thing of power as his friend. They'd both screwed up in the past, and yet, after all their misgivings, they found themselves here. Here, where they had no ill will left against one another. He dared himself to embrace Gabriel's grace with his soul, a feeling that could only be described as warm. "We have to, Gabe," he entreated softly, gesturing to the crowd outside the door and down the hall, "listen to them. We  _have_ to win."

Gabriel smiled inwardly at the feeling of Sam's soul wrapping itself around his grace, soothing his troubled energy like cool water on a burn. He listened to the sounds of playful conversation and laughter from the war room, echoing throughout the bunker. The sounds of friends, the sounds of family. He allowed himself to marvel for just a moment at how he'd subconsciously referred to humans as family, wondering what his old self would have thought of that. It didn't matter now- he was a soldier of god, and he had a mission to accomplish. "When do we leave?" He asked lowly, "Are you sure you don't want to tell Dean?"

Sam huffed a small, broken laugh at that. "Why, so he can die trying to stop me? You're right, they need to stay out of this to be safe. I'll let him kick my ass after all of this is over." He muttered, causing Gabriel to chuckle amusedly despite their situation. He looked to his angel, contemplating. "How much time do we have before he…" He trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

The archangel cleared his throat absently, brows furrowed in grim thought. "I don't know for sure," he answered honestly, "but not long. A week or two at most. It'll take some time for him to rally his armies and get whatever spell he needs to cross over."

The idea of leaving everyone behind and possibly not coming back felt like a weight tied around Sam's chest, another cross to bear out of the many he'd carried in his life. He'd died many times now, burnt in hell and come back again, each time for Dean. He'd do it again, only this time, he took some small measure of comfort in the fact that he probably wouldn't go to Hell. He didn't think for a second that it wasn't worth it. His life in exchange for the world? A no brainer. But this time, if he did die, he wanted it to be final. Not because he didn't want to be with his family, but because he wanted them to be at peace. Both he and his brother knew that coming back always came with a price. He felt hypocritical just thinking about it, knowing that if Dean was in the position he was, he'd do anything to get his brother back. He felt a pang in his heart when he remembered the promise he'd made to Dean. " _If we die, we'll do that together, too."_. What a horrible lie to make, and it filled him with guilt just recalling it. But this was for the best. This was right.

"Gabriel, if we die…" Sam paused, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth, "where will we go?"

The archangel sat on the edge of the bed next to Sam, abandoning his perch on the chair. "I don't know," He whispered roughly, "but we won't go to Hell or the empty. That's for sure."

Sam breathed a wet laugh, not noticing the saltwater that was starting to pool in his eyes. He didn't even have the energy to chide himself for crying like a girl. "Since when is there any 'sureness' in what we do?" He scoffed.

Gabriel gave a small smile, allowing a sense of relaxation to befall him. "Since I know my father. He won't let us go there this time." He declared softly, not knowing when he'd gained such a comforting tone of voice. Not knowing when he started to care.

"How do you know?" Sam murmured, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek.

Gabriel thinks this was the first time in his entire existence that he'd ever touched a human's tear as he flicked it off Sam's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I know." He repeated affirmatively, because that was all he needed to say.

* * *

They left that night, after Sam emerged from his bedroom and made his rounds talking to everybody. It was tortuous to smile and chat and look happy while he knew what he was about to do. He couldn't let on anything unusual, though, or Dean would surely pick it up. He was slightly amazed that his older brother hadn't caught him, hadn't pulled him aside and asked what was up. Sam felt sick and horrible as he said goodnight to Mom and Jack, Cas and Dean.  _What a way for them to remember me,_ he thought bitterly as he forced a smile, patting his older brother on the shoulder before he turned to go to his room,  _Sam, the guy who lied to everyone before going off to play hero. The brother who broke his promise._

Gabriel used his grace to silence their movements as they prepared to leave. The clock on his nightstand ticked for 1 in the morning as Sam grabbed a paper and pen, writing a note to his mother. He made sure to underline the part 'don't let Dean do anything stupid' in bold letters, even though Mary had good common sense. He wiped furiously at his eyes as he signed it, tossing the pen on his bed and grabbing his bag that contained warding, a spell book, and his gun.

"How can you be sure they won't follow us?" He asked Gabriel quietly, even though he knew no one could hear them, "You know Jack and Cas are gonna try and find us the minute they see that we're gone, right?"

His angel lifted his sleeve to show an unfamiliar warding pattern carved on his forearm, scarring and dried blood caking it. Sam's eyes widened as he saw it, gripping Gabriel's hand to get a better look. "Gabe!" He exclaimed, "What the hell? That could get infected!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve back down, looking at Sam like he was explaining logic to a first grader. "Don't worry, mom, my grace isn't that low." He quipped, handing his archangel blade to Sam. "You have to do it, too. It's an anti-tracking spell, no angel or demon can pick up our trail, but it only works with an archangel blade."

Sam huffed indignantly at Gabriel's ability to brush him off so quickly, but grabbed the blade and bit his lip as he carved the symbol into the flesh on his forearm, only allowing a small grunt at the pain. He'd been burned and tortured for years in hell, this was barely a scratch. "What about Jack?" Sam asked, grabbing a swab of rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit he kept hidden under his bed, "He's half archangel, couldn't he override it?" He winced as the alcohol swabbed over his skin, but steeled himself and kept the wound clean. He couldn't afford to get sick now.

"Nephilim can't track it, even if he is part archangel." Gabriel answered, "You've gotta be the whole package to override it, and even then, it takes a lot out of us."

Sam sighed, slipping on his jacket and grabbing the note he'd written to Mary. "Where are we going first, again?" Sam asked tiredly, rubbing his forehead. They'd laid out a plan earlier and Gabriel mentioned something about staying on earth for a day to 'practice' before opening the rift again.

"Iceland." The archangel replied, following Sam as he padded silently through the bunker, carefully opening the door to his mother's bedroom.

"Iceland?" Sam frowned, confused. He carefully set the note down on Mary's nightstand, watching as she slept peacefully.  _I'm sorry to do this to you, mom,_ he thought sadly as he tore his gaze from her, those eyes and that nose looking almost identical to Dean's.

"I got a bit of a hang out goin' on over there since I took up Loki's spot," Gabriel said casually as they walked into the war room, "it's warded against pretty much everything and no one knows about it except a few very classy on-call stripper clubs."

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation as looked at Gabriel. "You're unbelievable." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'awesome'." Gabe replied haughtily, a proud grin on his face like he'd just won some sort of contest.

Sam took one last look around the bunker, making sure everything was in order and that no one had followed them. He inhaled sharply before looking at his angel. He didn't know if this would work, and he didn't know if they'd come back alive or not. But he knew they would stop Michael. They would because they had to.

"Alright," He said, looking at his angel with a mix of determination and sadness, "let's go."

The last thing Sam heard was a flap of wings before the bunker disappeared.


	9. Icelandic Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iceland is cold and Sam feels guilty for leaving Dean behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter! Sorry, but it's a necessary chunk.

Iceland was exactly what Sam expected it to be: cold, snowy, and dark. They arrived within a fraction of a second to howling wind and icy air, the cold seeping into the hunters bones as soon as he was able to register temperature. A light in the distance caught his eye, and he was able to make out the shape of a house, small and seemingly insignificant against the vast, wooded landscape. 

“Sorry I couldn’t zap us straight to the living room, my grace is still too low for exact locations.” Gabriel murmured as they made their trek up the long and winding driveway.

“You could’ve let me know that it’s winter here!” Sam cursed between chattering teeth, pulling his thin jacket tightly around his frame. He hadn’t thought much about packing for himself when they left. His mind was on their impending doom.

Gabriel shrugged innocently, barely affected by the bitter cold. “Well, excuse me for liking Dr. Sexy more than the weather channel.” He replied sassily. 

As they got closer to the house, Sam could see the angel banishing sigils painted on the walls, the pavement, even the windows. There was a large assortment of other symbols as well, but Sam didn’t have the energy to look at each and every one. Laying a palm on the symbol painted on the front door, Gabe burned through the warding just enough to let them in before promptly replacing it.

The inside of the house was truly a design suited to Gabriel. It looked like a bachelor pad that one of Sam’s college buddies would have had from Stanford- sparse decor with a multitude of couches, carelessly discarded pizza boxes, and the occasional stray bra or lingerie.

“You  _ lived  _ here?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at the obviously messy state of the house.

The archangel nodded fondly, as if he was reminiscing about the good old days. “Yep, they called this place the ‘Gabe cave’.” He replied, and Sam snorted at the name. 

“What are we gonna be able to do if we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere?” Sam questioned, setting his bag down on a poker table, “I know this place is warded, but how are we going to open the rift without the ingredients?” 

Gabriel took a seat on chair draped with what looked like a jaguar pelt. “Please,” He waved a hand dismisively, “I saw what your red headed friend put in there. All we need is archangel grace and the rest I can snap up.” He murmured. 

Sam inhaled sharply, mind racing with things to do before the faced Michael. What limits to test, how to prepare, when to attack- the amount that could go wrong was staggering. “What do we do now?” He asked, almost ashamed of how lost he sounded.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m taking the first day for a little R&R. You may be my boost, but I’m nowhere near full power yet. My grace has been charging for a while, though, so I should be back to normal by tomorrow afternoon.” He proclaimed, putting his feet up on the table. 

Sam felt the nagging beginnings of doubt start to eat away at him. “ _ That’s _ your plan? To go on vacation? Gabriel, we barely have enough time to test our limits and figure out how to do this, we can’t just sit around!” He exclaimed. 

Gabriel’s joking demeanor dropped, looking at Sam seriously. “We don’t have a choice.” He said glumly, “Believe me, kiddo, I’d be busting through that portal right now if I could. I’d love nothing more than to tear my big bro a new one. But I’m too weak to go up against Michael now. And if he catches us? Let’s just say he likes to play with his food before he eats it.” 

Sam shuddered at the statement, swallowing thickly. He knew his angel was right. Getting back to full strength before facing the corrupt archangel was a necessity, not a luxury. If they made any mistakes in how they went about this, it was game over. “Would you heal faster in your true form?” Sam asked quietly, tapping his fingers against the vinyl of the table. 

Gabriel looked up at him in surprise, mouth opening and closing before he replied. “It might speed things up by an hour or two, but nothing major.” He said. 

“Then do it,” Sam affirmed, looking at him with sureness, “an hour or two is valuable enough. You don’t have to stay in your vessel around me, so why not?” 

The archangel gave Sam a tiny smile before standing, tossing his jacket on the table. “You’re a real cool kid, you know that, sammich?” He asked happily. 

Sam shrugged and opened his mouth to reply before he was cut off by that overwhelming light, blinding him for just a moment before settling into that warm, peaceful glow. He knew that’s what made him different from most. Most people only saw the harshness of that initial moment, that overpowering brightness, before they went blind forever. Sam got to see what happened it you looked all the way through, if you waited to see what came afterwards. A set of burnt-amber wings stretched out around the house so quickly that they knocked multiple glasses off of tables, causing them to crash to the floor. They wrapped around the walls and over the door twice, essentially enveloping Sam in a tiny room of glowing, celestial feathers. Sam wondered how Gabriel could contain the size of his trueform to fit inside the house, when in reality he was supposed to be the size of the Empire State Building. He recalled Cas once telling Dean that he was approximately the size of the Chrysler building, and then his older brother looking hilariously shocked at that statement. He decided not to push the question, though, as long as the angel was comfortable. 

Gabriel did indeed looked a little cramped, however. The creature was sitting with its enormous knees tucked up to it’s chest to save space, those skeleton like hands wrapped around each stick like leg. The pure grace that emanated off the body of the archangel singed shadows into the floor, making small crackling noises as the wood burnt slightly beneath them.

The breathtaking beauty of the angel never failed to leave Sam speechless, and he thinks that even if he saw this form everyday for the rest of his life, his level of awe would never change at the sight of it. The humanoid mask face was staring down at him, blinking with its grace filled, impossibly large eyes. It looked almost… cute. Such a huge, powerful, celestial being curled up in a ball, trying to leave enough space for his human. Like a 6 foot tall basketball player trying to fit into a little kid’s chair. 

Gabriel craned his neck (if you could call it that, it looked more like a glow worm appendage) down to Sam’s level, wings ruffling slightly. A comet flashed through his galaxy filled eyes as he stared at Sam. “You sure this is still ok, kiddo?” He asked, the two voices moving in tandem. “I won’t mind if it freaks you out. You’ll have to let me know, though, ‘cause I’ve never had a human see me before. I’m not really sure if you’ll reach a breaking point or something.”

Sam licked his lips, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around this beautiful, precious thing and never let go. He couldn’t find the words, so he just nodded dumbly. 

He let out an undignified yelp, however, when a finger the size of his entire body extended and nudged him closer, rippling warmth to his soul as it touched his skin. 

“Don’t look so scared, you know it’s just me.” Gabriel sighed, and Sam thinks that if the angel had eyebrows, he would’ve raised them. 

“I-I’m not, I just…” Sam searched for words before realizing something. “Wait, don’t you have two more sets of wings?” He asked, 

The buffalo face on the side of his head seemed to snort and shift to look at its back. “Yeah, but they won’t fit in here. It’s ok, it doesn’t hurt to keep them tucked in.” He replied. 

Sam could only gape in understanding as he forced himself to sit down, trying to look relaxed and not let on how awestruck he was. “Is it… uncomfortable? To be in your vessel, I mean?” He asked randomly, desperate for something to fill the awkward silence. 

Gabriel  _ smiled _ , which Sam thought was impossible because he didn’t have lips, but he did. It was more of a sensation than a facial expression, though. “No, Samshine. Vessels are supposed to be comfy. At least, mine is. It’s like wearing pajamas around. They’re soft and nice, but eventually you wanna change into something else.” He tried to explain in a way the human could understand. 

Sam sighed deeply, his mind drifting back to Dean and the rest of them. “How much do you wanna bet that they’re looking for us right now?” He asked quietly, only half joking. 

Gabriel chuckled, all of the voices of his laughter seemingly cooing at Sam’s question. “Well, we’ve only been gone for an hour, but I’m sure Deano’s lost his marbles by now. Sometimes I think the dude put a tracker on you when you were a baby or something.” He murmured, his deep voice causing the window panes to shake just a little. 

The hunter didn’t even realize that he was leaning against one of Gabriel’s amber feathers in his exhaustion. “He probably would have if they had those in the 90s.” Sam muttered, unable to help the sinking feeling of guilt from wrapping itself around his chest. He didn’t think he could live with himself if dean got hurt, or worse while trying to look for them. The angel must’ve noticed Sam's distress, because its eagle face chirped in dismay and his feathers ruffled unhappily, like a bird that had been disrupted from preening itself. 

“You feel like you owe him.” Gabriel stated more than asked, head tilting to watch Sam. His robe skirted at the edges of Sam’s feet, the celestial shroud seemingly tugging at the hunters shoes. 

Sam swallowed thickly, suppressing the memories of Dean sticking up for him throughout their childhood. He didn’t think he could stand to reminisce about those times without having a full on breakdown. “He’s sold his  _ soul  _ for me, Gabe,” he croaked, “I’ve made so many mistakes and he went to hell for me.” 

There was a long silence between the two, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Sam didn’t dare look up, irrationally afraid that Gabriel would judge him when he saw the tears threatening to fall. 

“You shouldn’t feel bad for the choices he made.” The angel said quietly, strands of his lion mane drifting in his face. “He’s your older brother. Saving you is what he’s supposed to do.” 

Sam shook his head vehemently, looking at his shoes. “He shouldn’t have to,” He whispered, “he shouldn’t. He’s never lived for himself, he’s only ever lived for me.” 

Gabriel paused, blinking at Sam briefly. “Well, no one really lives for themselves and only themselves. That’s what makes humans better than angels,” he said softly, “they live and die for the people they love. It’s how you know you have a heart and soul, Sammy.” 

The statement left Sam unable to reply, contemplative as he swallowed and curled up in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep for the rest of the night. “It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” He whispered, so low and so quietly that it would’ve been impossible for anyone with human ears to hear it. Gabe wasn’t human.

“No, it doesn’t,” He agreed, tilting his head, “but it’s a  _ good  _ pain to feel. It means you love and you’re loved in return. It means you’re being what my dad wanted you to be. The most extraordinary creatures that there ever were and will be.” 

Sam barely registered what Gabriel said before he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by warm light and glowing feathers. 

“Get some rest, Sammy. We’ll start the work tomorrow.” 

They both fell asleep, Gabriel resting his grace while his all-seeing eyes guarded Sam with vigilance.


	10. Power Is Just The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel find out just what they can do together, and Michael is in for a treat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for your support and reviews, I read every single one of them! I hope you enjoy this chapter- I should be updating more soon! (Also, if anyone was wondering, Gabe's dragon form would be technically classified as a 'wyvern' since he doesn't have front legs, only his wings and back feet).

The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up was that Gabriel was gone. He sat up slowly, realizing he’d slept the whole night in the recliner chair he’d sat down in when they first entered the house. Morning sunlight was shining through the sigil-painted windows, and the snow outside seemed to have stopped. 

“Gabe?” Sam called, voice rough from sleep. He stood up when something fell from his shoulder and onto the floor, causing him to jolt in surprise. A single amber feather, nearly the size of his arm, floated lightly to the floor. It had lost its celestial glow now that it was no longer attached to its owner, and looked like it belonged to some oversized bird. 

“Hello?” Sam ventured again, clearing a few stray papers from the poker table and grabbing his gun just in case, “Gabriel, where are you?” 

He was just beginning to panic when he heard it. It was faint, distant, almost muted, but it was there. The familiar roar/croon of the archangel-dragon. It was a strange but beautiful noise- somewhere between a bird and a lion, something you’d hear out of a Jurassic Park movie. Running to the front door, Sam carefully opened it and stepped out onto the front porch.  _ Are we under attack?  _ He thought desperately, checking to make sure his gun was loaded,  _ who could’ve found us all the way out here? _

_ “Nobody, kiddo, I’m just enjoying some fresh air.”  _ Gabriel’s telepathic voice rang through his mind in that echoey way that Sam had yet to get used to. The roar sounded again, this time closer, and Sam looked up to the sky when a flash of gold caught his eye.

Gabriel was flying high above the ground, massive amber wings gliding across the arctic winds. The flight feathers towards the end cut through the sky like blades, glowing and pulsating with life. Sam didn’t think it was possible for such a massive creature (about the size of a boeing 737) to look so graceful, but here it was; and he was breathtaking. His dark, rich golden scaled body was strong and muscular as it sailed through the air, legs trailing behind it like streamers on a kite. Gabriel’s tail was long and tipped with barbed spikes, which ran all the way up his back and long neck. His spiraled golden horns curled up around his head, almost resembling a halo, and Sam wonders if that’s where the description comes from. The grace that burned behind his eyes was brighter today, almost too bright to stare at. Sam wanted to chuckle inwardly when he realized that Gabe’s eyes literally are the windows to his soul.

The dragon circled round to land in the yard, searching for a good position. As he got closer, the beat of his wings caused the house to shake, and Sam had to brace himself against the rush of air as the force threatened to knock him over. Taloned feet touched the ground, causing the earth to shake just a bit. Gabriel walked on the elbow hinges of his wings, an awkward motion that clearly showed his place was in the sky, not on land. 

Sam couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. “I see that you’ve got all of your grace back?” He asked the dragon, whose enormous head came down to Sam’s level.

_ “Bingo,” _ Gabriel said telepathically, the dragon snorting through two large nostrils on the end of its snout. Sam thought that he should be unnerved by the fact that he could see slivers of those long teeth through the slight gap where his jaw closed, but he wasn’t. 

The young hunter cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips. “Can’t you talk normal?” He asked, still trying to get used to the idea of talking with, well, ideas.

The dragon chirped like a bird, a deep whistling sound that came from its chest. It was  _ laughing. “Don’t be silly, Sam, dragons can’t talk. That would be weird.”  _ Gabriel said.

“Yes, Gabe, that’s the  _ one  _ weird thing in all of this.” Sam folded his arms and scoffed sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the voice inside his head. 

_ “Touche,”  _ Gabriel murmured,  _ “now head inside to eat so we can get this show on the road. There’s food on the table- I hope you like mediocre scandinavian pancakes.”  _

Sam rolled his eyes, absently wondering why he was so calm about any of this as he walked back into the house. He’d just run away from his family, his friends, possibly forever, and was alone in the arctic wilderness with an archangel.  _ Maybe I’ve finally lost it,  _ he thought only half jokingly. 

In all seriousness, he was surprised at his lack of conflicted feelings over Gabriel. He didn’t know if it was the grace bond or just the fact that he’d gotten to know the angel better, but a part of Sam felt like he should be more apprehensive about the angel. After all, this  _ was  _ the same guy who made Dean die all over again, left them in TV world and tried to deceive them. There was an undeniable time in Sam’s life where he wouldn’t have thought twice about killing Gabriel.  _ I should feel something,  _ he kept telling himself,  _ it shouldn’t be this easy.  _ But all of those things had happened so long ago, and  _ so much  _ had happened in their lives since they last saw Gabriel seemingly die. They’d watched people they cared for die over and over again, they’d won and they’d lost, they’d killed and they’d  _ been  _ killed. Sam had gone through trials, Dean’s mark of cain, losing and finding Cas, Jack being born… And Sam was just so tired. Too tired to hold on to any inhibitions from the past, no matter how warranted they were. He couldn’t do it, didn’t  _ want  _ to do it.

Sam stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on the spread at the countertop- piles of pancakes were dripping with syrup and covered in chocolate sauce, candies, and other sweets. It looked like some little kid had been let loose in the kitchen. 

“Gabriel!” Sam called, turning to see the archangel walk into the kitchen in his human form. 

“What up, Sammich?” He replied nonchalantly, sitting down at the counter and pulling a plate of pancakes towards him. 

Sam looked at him in disbelief, brows furrowed. “I can’t eat this!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the food, “I’m pretty sure I’ll drop dead of a heart attack before lunch time!” 

Gabriel rolled his eyes and groaned, shoveling a fork of chocolate covered pancakes in his mouth, “Ugh, fine- why did I get this feeling that you were all work and no play?” He asked with his mouth full before snapping his fingers, and Sam’s plate was replaced with regular oatmeal and a banana. 

“Thank you.” Sam muttered, sitting down and starting to peel the fruit, “When did your grace come back?”

Gabriel shrugged, unwrapping a snickers bar. “The tank hit ‘full’ at about 3 in the morning. Apparently your allowing me to… ‘let loose’... helped more than I thought it would.” He admitted, popping the candy in his mouth. 

Sam’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked at Gabriel eagerly. This was their chance. “Wait, that means we can open the rift. If you’re strong enough, we can leave and stop Michael.” He said earnestly.

Gabriel’s eyes became serious as he gave a slight nod. “I guess, physically, I’m able to stand up to my big brother. But you gotta remember, kiddo, it’s not just him. We’re gonna have to go through a lot of angels just to reach him. And who knows where Lucifer is…” he trailed off with a sigh.

Sam frowned, not liking the look of stress on the usually lighthearted angel. “We’ll see what we can do, how many we can take out at once. I know you’re able to breathe more fire when I’m riding with you, but what can I do? I mean, do we have any idea how this affects humans?” He asked, trying to sort through the millions of thoughts racing through his head. There were definitely no books on this at the bunker.

Gabriel pursed his lips, brows furrowed as he thought about it. “I’m not sure, but I remember a while back when the great grandson of Enoch was supposedly bonded to an angel- they said he had the strength of ten men. But what the hell does that mean? They were pretty big into metaphors back then.” He muttered. 

Sam looked around the house, an idea sprouting in his head. He walked over to a large, outdated dresser situated sadly in the corner of the living room, it’s purpose long forgotten. “Are you attached to this or no?” He asked Gabriel without looking away, continuing to stare at the tall piece of dense furniture.

“What?” The angel frowned, confused, “No, it was here when I found the place, why?”

Sam took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing his soul on finding Gabriel’s grace. It was still an odd sense to him, like being able to smell colors or see tastes. Gabriel’s grace bumped up against his soul, warm and markedly stronger than yesterday. He couldn’t exactly describe how he did it, but he reached into Gabriel’s grace, soul gently withdrawing a small amount of energy like water from a well. He could  _ feel  _ the molecular makeup of the wooden dresser, the density of the oak and the depth of the drawers. He focused, and when a loud bang sounded, he opened his eyes.

The 7 foot tall dresser was scattered in pieces on the floor, wood splintered into tiny fragments. Dust clouded in the air where it once stood, and the floorboards had scratched and buckled where the dresser fell. Even the brass handles of the drawers were twisted, warped like someone had reworked the metal.

“Wow,” Sam breathed in amazement, staring at his hands in awe.  _ Did I seriously just do that?  _ He thought to himself in disbelief,  _ could I really be capable of doing something like that? _

_ “ _ I guess that’s what they meant by ‘ten men’.” Gabriel said absently, staring at the broken pile of wood with wide eyes. He was just as surprised as the other man was.

Sam turned around, looking at Gabriel with renewed hope. “You try,” He said softly, encouraging, “use my soul. That’s what I did. I think it’s like some sort of channel of energy.” 

Gabriel looked reluctant, but hesitantly lifted his gaze upon the angel banishing sigil painted on the door. He was able to break and re-seal it when he wanted to, but that didn’t make it any less of a literal headache when he was around. Arch or not, he was still an angel, and warding  _ did  _ affect him. Unless… He tried to replicated what Sam had said, and to his shock, it came easier than expected. He was still getting used to the feeling of a human soul, it had been ages since he last got the chance to come into contact with one. But now, his grace mingling with Sam’s, he thinks that the young WInchester’s soul was brighter and more beautiful than even Adam’s before the fall. It reignited something in him, it heightened his ability to feel and notice his surroundings. He’d been around long enough to know that should never be taken for granted. 

He didn’t have to, but he took a deep breath. He felt the warding struggle against his grace, but with a sharp crackling noise and a flurry of sparks, the sigil burnt away. And to his utter bewilderment, so did every single other ward on the property. It was like a chain of dominos falling- one by one, they watched in disbelief as each demon banishing, witch-killing, ghost-proof symbol sparkled and cracked into nothing. In all his eternity of existence, Gabriel didn’t remember any angel being able to take on multiple wardings at once. It would take a squad of many to get rid of just a few sigils, and he knew that from listening to many of Duma’s little excursions on angel radio. 

Sam was staring at him with a mildly amusing look of amazement, going to touch the singed remains of the symbols. His fingertips ran along the door reverently, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Gabriel didn’t blame him- he couldn’t, either.

They didn’t need words to know what the other was thinking as they exchanged glances. They didn’t even need to mind-speak to know. It was etched into the expressions on their faces, and suddenly, even though he knew he still should be, Sam didn’t feel as afraid. If this was just the tip to the iceberg that was their combined power, Michael wouldn’t know what hit him. 

“Hey, Sam?” Gabriel asked, his trickster smirk present, “You wanna show that son of a bitch how we do things on earth?”


	11. And All of Heaven Sang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys prepare to leave, and Sam is comforted by his angel in a way no human before has ever witnessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello kind readers! Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! The support for this story has been overwhelming. I hope you enjoy, and more is coming soon! (btw, the bible verse used in here is Luke 1:19, but I modified the ending a bit to fit the story).

 

The day passed fairly quickly while they prepared to cross over into the other world. Sam had busied himself with improving their weaponry while Gabriel was gathering the spell ingredients, making sure they had what they needed to open the rift. They were both so consumed in their own thoughts that they hardly registered the hours ticking by- the sun was lowering itself into the sky by the time they were almost ready, creating a frosty pink glow that blanketed the icy landscape and spilled into the house. Sam had cleaned and re-cleaned his gun a dozen times that day. They’d broken many more objects while they were ‘practicing’, using their power to test themselves until the entire second floor of Gabe’s house looked like a bomb went off. They discovered that their individual limits were around 12 objects at a time, but that wasn’t even counting Gabe’s warrior form. Sam knew he’d have to ride him while flying, but he had mixed feelings about that. It was one thing to mount the creature while it was on the ground, like they had when they killed the vampires, but it was completely different to hold on for dear life while they soared hundreds of feet in the air. Neither of them spoke about it, but Sam figured they’d try when the reached the other world. 

“And you’re  _ sure  _ we can’t get any more of these?” Sam asked for what seemed like the fifth time, twirling the archangel blade around in his hand as he examined it. It was the only weapon they had that could kill angels, the only one that could put an end to Michael or Lucifer for good.

Gabriel didn’t look up from a book he was flipping through, one of Rowena’s that he stole from the bunker before they left. “I’m sure- unless god opens up a blacksmith store, that’s about all we got.” He muttered, grabbing a saltshaker from one of the rundown cupboards in the kitchen. 

Sam peered down at his gun, checking to see how many angel killing bullets he had left from the ones Dean gave him. 13, counting the one that was loaded and ready to go. He swallowed nervously and looked at the clock on his phone. 6:53 pm, and the seconds just kept ticking. He knew they were going to have to get through a bunch of scout angels before they were able to face Michael, but the thought of having to get so up close to them made him shiver. All it took was a snap of their fingers, and the celestial beings could end him (thereby ending Gabriel) for good. 

Glancing around the house in an effort to distract himself from his worries, his eyes landed on a meter-long javelin that rested against the barely used fireplace. It looked like a relic from some bragging sports jock, trying to display their college prowess for all to see. A couple of lonely shot put weights rested on the ground beside it, caked in dust and cobwebs. Striding over to it, he gripped the metal spear in his hands, grimacing as a layer of dirt and grime rubbed off on his palm. The weight felt firm, steady in his hands. “Gabriel, is this yours?” He asked absently, still examining the javelin. 

“Huh?” The angel looked up from throwing pinches of salt into a bowl, frowning at the javelin, “No, I think I won that against some douche in a drunk poker game, like, 10 years ago. Why?” He asked.

Sam looked from the angel blade to the spear, smiling slightly as an idea popped into his head. He pressed the hilt of the blade against the tip of the javelin, closing his hands over them tightly. He had no idea if what we was about to try would work, but it was worth a shot. Closing his eyes, Sam pictured what he wanted to happen in his head, trying to make it as vivid as possible before reaching out to Gabriel’s grace. His soul drew energy from it once more, pulsating through him like electricity. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t exactly feel pleasant, either. He felt a gentle heat against the palms of his hands, and when he opened his eyes, he had to stop his own jaw from dropping. 

The hilt and handle of the archangel blade had melted into the spear, the metals welding together so that they were connected. The blade’s pointed edge was unaffected, and Sam grinned as he tested the feel of his new creation. It felt heavy, but not too heavy- just the right amount of mass to it, the right type of balance. 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the weapon, peeling what looked like a ginger root. “What, are we playing angelic track and field now?” He quipped, “What the hell is that?” 

Sam twirled the spear in his hands, looking at the angel. “If you think I wanna stand two feet in front of an angel that’s trying to kill us, you’re crazy.” He said, “My dad always told us that distance was key when fighting. It’s better to stay as far away from your opponent as possible.”

Gabriel forced himself to hold back a comment about John Winchester’s parenting. He’d seen a summary of Sam’s childhood when they bonded, his grace melding through all the layers of his soul. He’d seen how John treated Sam when he was younger, how he became so consumed with catching a demon that he no longer cared about how he affected his own son. Teaching your child how to fight and kill when they turned 13 was just a fraction of the many scars John left on his sons. And while Gabriel knew the man wasn’t a bad human being, that didn’t make him feel any less resentment towards him for hurting Sam.

“It’s clever, I’ll give you that.” Gabriel told him, tossing the ginger root into the bowl. “All we need now is my grace, and we’ll be ready to go.” He said, brushing his hands off.

A sudden heaviness fell upon the room as they both came to the realization that this was it. They were about to leave, and quite possibly never come back. They were going to destroy Michael, whether it left them alive or not, but that did little to ease the feeling of sorrow that settled on Sam like a blanket.  _ God, Dean, please forgive me for this,  _ he thought, knowing his brother was probably pissed as hell. He could almost see Dean now, running frantically throughout the bunker while he and Cas made futile attempts to locate him and Gabriel. His heart ached for them, and it worsened when he remembered that he never got to say goodbye. What were the last words he said to his older brother? ‘Good night’? ‘See you tomorrow’? He didn’t even remember. 

“I have enough to keep it open for around 36 hours, give or take,” Gabe said, shaking Sam from his thoughts, “I’ll ward the place like hell before we leave, but no one should know where we are to mess with it, anyways.”

Sam was frozen in place, only able to nod numbly. It had been a while since he had an episode like this, one that left him suffocated in panic. They’d gotten worse since he got back from hell. 

“Sam?” Gabriel asked, looking up in concern when he didn’t get a reply. The hunter was standing stiff and silent, eyes wide as he took shallow breaths. Gabriel flinched when he felt how troubled Sam’s soul was, trembling and panicked.

He wrapped his grace around Sam’s soul desperately, willing the pain to go away. The idea of a soul as pure and strong as his in pain was enough to make Gabriel abandon his care for reputation, and he enveloped the taller man in a warm embrace, holding him close while rubbing his back. 

“Gabe,” Sam managed to choke out, embarrassment flushing his cheeks as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t care. He was just so fucking  _ scared.  _ So scared and tired, tired of losing and tired of watching his loved ones die. He let the last small wall of doubt he had towards Gabriel crumble, and he leaned into the embrace. He didn’t even notice that the figure was now holding  _ him  _ instead of the other way around, Gabriel having shifted to his true form so that he could better hold his human. 

Feathers that smelled of smoke and grace surrounded him in a warm cocoon, and that long, stick-like skeletal hand nudged him forwards, holding him against the humanoid face. Sam didn’t care if it was rushed, or girly or awkward or any of that crap. He clung on to the mask like face for dear life, feeling the warmth of the liquid like sensation pulsate beneath him. Those giant eyes full of stars looked… sad? They blinked at him in concern, but Sam didn’t have the guts to look back. He stayed with his face buried against the angels cheek, eyes screwed shut. 

It was only then when he heard it. It was a sound, but also a sensation, like being swaddled in freshly dried laundry. The thousands of voices were  _ singing.  _ Singing to  _ him,  _ a wordless song of a melody that Sam couldn’t describe if his life depended on it. His soul paused its sorrow just to listen to it, pitches swaying from high to low in a rhythmic rocking, and it was the most  _ beautiful _ thing Sam had ever heard. It was so full of love, so full of every good thing that there ever was, that Sam’s tears of anguish were replaced with hysteric tears of joy. It was light and grace all at once, and he could breathe again as the suffocating panic fled from him. 

He gasped a wet breath, opening his eyes to stare up at the faces, reverently going to touch and hold each one. He buried his hands in the buffalo’s fur, grasping its ribbed horns of strength. He stroked the lions mane, the pelt glowing with stardust beneath his hands. He stroked the smooth, sharp beak of the eagle, watching as his touch caused ripples in the celestial skin. And he fell back to the human like mask face, holding it and stroking it with his palm, his other hand gripping the angels four foot tall pinky finger. 

“I love you.” He whispered softly, voice off key and rough with tears as the singing continued.

The feathers surrounding him shuddered, the eyes of the mask face glowed brighter. “I love you, too.” Gabriel replied, but not with words. The meaning and the statement were conveyed from grace to soul, filling Sam’s very being at the core, “I have always loved you. Since you were just an idea in my father's head, I have loved you. And I will never stop.” 

Sam pushed away all the thoughts of Michael and the other world and their impending doom. He pushed away the fears and doubts he had about destroying the corrupted archangel. There would be time for that later. But in that moment, Sam just wanted the present to last forever. He didn’t dare think it was too good to be true, because it was realer than anything he ever felt in his life. 

The voices were still singing, cooing in every pitch and tone. But Sam’s ears perked up when he suddenly realized that he could  _ understand them.  _ They were repeating the same thing over and over again, in a unified melody of an infinite number of languages: “ _ And the angel answering said unto him, I am Gabriel, that stand in the presence of God; and am sent to speak unto thee, and to shew thee these glad tidings, for only good things shall come to those who seek  _ _ out the love of my father.”  _

Sam listened, every fibre of his being content to forever. If only they had that long.


	12. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two favorite boys enter the Other World!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everybody who’s read and left comments on this story! I hope you enjoy this chapter and review! Also, shoutout to the people who said they’d work on drawing anything to do with this story! Show me what you got! (Every time I get a review Gabriel gets a hug)

Sam felt a massive sense of loss and longing when the singing stopped, desperate to hear just one more chorus of heavenly voices. It had momentarily taken away all the pains of life, soothing Sam’s soul to the point where he felt nearly boneless. Gabriel  _ loved  _ him. He’d actually told him he  _ loved  _ him. The idea of those words directed towards Sam made him feel like the most important person in the world, made him rethink some of his self loathing. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was. If such a beautiful creature could love him so, maybe it was possible that he  _ wasn’t  _ just a screw up who unleashed the devil on the world and started the apocalypse. That possibility caused a new flame of hope to reignite within him, and he was ecstatic. He didn’t know until that moment that he could feel such a strong sense of love for anyone other than Dean, and even then, it wasn’t the same type of love. It was brotherly, but it was also comradeship, so fierce and so strong that all the power of heaven couldn’t break it.

He  _ loved  _ Gabriel, this quirky archangel who’d wormed his way into their lives all those years ago. He wanted nothing more than to spend all of eternity basking in the warm light of the angel, his hypnotic grace humming steadily. This ancient, powerful being who’d seen everything come into being from nothing. He wanted to protect and hold this beautiful thing close to him, wanted it to be by his side forever. A small part of him wished Gabriel would take off the mask he wore when he interacted with the world, step out of his vessel and show everyone his true colors, how full of love he was towards every living thing. Sam had felt that part of him, felt the portion of his grace that was so committed and enchanted by humans and mankind in general, the portion of him that thought humans were precious and beautiful and so, so wonderful. 

The young hunter wanted to stay cocooned in that embrace. It was just him and Gabriel in their own little world, surrounded by nothing but the want to love and be loved. It was beautiful and it was real, not some illusion that a monster could conjure to bring momentary happiness. This type of joy seeped into the very core of Sam’s soul, soaking into it and healing any doubts he had about himself. 

But now he was back in the real world, and he knew they had to face Michael. And although he was still nervous, Sam’s panic was long gone, quelled by the knowledge that even if he died, he’d be with Gabriel forever. That was enough for him, that was  _ more  _ than enough. 

Sam took a second to catch his breath when reality returned to him, when he saw that Gabriel was in his vessel again and was staring at him intently. 

“You ready, now, Sammy?” He asked softly, whiskey colored eyes gentle. 

Sam smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in months. He grabbed the angel blade spear from the table, looking to Gabe with sureness. “Let’s go.” He said, and he watched as his angel withdrew a vial of that beautiful grace and poured it into the bowl, sparking to life with an energetic ‘crack’. The rift appeared before them seconds later, that familiar orange portal splitting out of thin air.

The two men exchanged one last glance before diving in, leaving their one way back to the world alone, guarded only by the warding and the howling arctic wind. 

* * *

  
  


They arrived in a different location than last time, and Sam was suddenly unsure of where they were. It looked like some sort of desert landscape, barren and cold like the rest of the other world. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and there wasn’t a person in sight. 

_ “Is it an understatement to say that Michael screwed this place over?”  _ Gabriel asked mirthlessly, and Sam turned to his left to see the enormous dragon standing beside him. 

“Why’re you in your warrior form?” He questioned, confused but delighted at the same time. 

_ “In case you haven’t noticed, samsquatch, not all of us are as gigantic as you. This way, I’m not as vulnerable.”  _ Gabriel answered, nostrils huffing at the question as though Sam had made a direct insult towards his vessel’s smaller stature. 

Sam shrugged, grabbing his gun and spear as lightning flashed in the distance. “Where are we?” He wondered aloud, looking for any sort of landmark that could give them a clue as to what their location was. This looked nothing like the forest clearing they’d originally arrived in. Come to think of it, Sam didn’t see a single tree at all.

Gabriel shrugged his enormous shoulders, long tail flicking at the tip.  _ “I don’t know… but don’t use your GPS!”  _ He said hurriedly. 

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?” He frowned, “I thought that was kinda my thing.” 

Gabriel chuffed absently, air whistling through the gaps of the large fangs in his mouth. Sam couldn’t help but notice the random animal-like noises the angel seemed to be making involuntarily. “ _ Whenever you use that, you’re tapping into angel radio. Every other angel can hear you using it and can track us. We’re going to have to solve this the old fashioned way. _ ” Gabriel explained, earning a puzzled look from Sam. He awkwardly walked on the bend of his wings, shifting all his weight to the side so he was situated next to the young hunter. “ _ All aboard the Gabe express,”  _ the archangel said, and lowered a shoulder blade so that Sam could climb up onto his back. 

Sam’s eyes widened in realization. They were going to fly. A slight flame of nervousness sparked in the pit of his stomach. Even though it was always Dean who had the fear of heights (which Sam later teased him mercilessly for), Sam couldn’t deny that flying hundreds of feet in the air on the back of a giant celestial dragon was probably pretty fucking dangerous. He gulped hesitantly, feeling conflicted. At the same time, he wanted to feel that sense of freedom and unfiltered joy that must come from soaring through the air with his angel. If it felt as awe-striking as it looked, then he’d probably never had a more epic experience in his life. “W-What are we going to do about the rift?” Sam stammered, gesturing to the portal, “We can’t just leave it here in the middle of nowhere! Anything could just cross over and get into our world!”

Gabriel gave him a knowing look, smirking as much as a dragon could. “ _ You really think I’d leave without taking some precautions? Have a little faith in me, Sambo!”  _ He exclaimed,  _ “Before we left I used a little security trick I learned when I was Loki. There’s a warding back in our living room that’s in tune to the energy signatures of our grace and soul. If anything climbs back through there that’s not us, the sigil’s will know it and blast ‘em back here before you can even blink.”  _

Sam struggled to keep his mouth from dropping open, continuously amazed at Gabriel’s ingenuity. He knew he was clever (he was the trickster, after all), but apart from the time Sam had spent with him when he and Dean were trying to kill him, the hunter never really got to know him well enough to see how bright he was. He didn’t give him nearly enough credit for his intelligence. “Gabe, that’s… that’s brilliant.” Sam uttered, cocking his head as he looked at the angel.

Gabriel shrugged, eyeing the hunter nonchalantly. “ _ I know,”  _ he said casually, the mischief in his voice obvious,  _ “I’m pretty awesome. Do me a favor and let Dean know? I think he tends to give me the short end of the stick. Now, are we going to leave or not?” _

Sam looked hesitant, standing awkwardly to the side and hoping his face didn’t show how nervous he really was.

“ _ C’mon, kiddo, it’ll be easier to know where we are with a bird’s eye view,”  _ Gabriel coaxed, huge feathers rustling slightly. “ _ I’ll try to make it as smooth as I can.” _

Sam took a deep breath, knowing this was the only way. They didn’t have time to wander aimlessly on foot for miles. He slid his backpack and gun further up on his shoulder before walking over to the outstretched wing, absently wondering if it hurt Gabriel when he climbed up him like grappler. He had to suppress a gasp when he gripped the dragons scaly shoulder for support, that other worldly sensation of warmth and grace pulsing beneath his fingers like electric waves. It made his heart skip a couple beats, his breath hitching. Pushing himself further up, he climbed over the spiky like aerodynamic fins so that he was seated on Gabe’s mid back, gripping him tightly as he braced for takeoff. 

_ “You good, sammich? I won’t leave until you say so.”  _ Gabriel asked, a chirping sound coming from deep within the dragon's throat. It sounded so much like that of a bird that Sam had to stifle a chuckle, wondering if the angel even knew he was making those sounds.

Sam swallowed and nodded, the fear subsiding as he felt his soul latch onto Gabriel’s grace firmly, fitting together like puzzle pieces. It felt right, like they were made to meld as one. He let the bond’s instinct kick in as he looked forward, eyes flashing electric blue momentarily before whispering,  _ “fly.”  _

Obeying the command from his rider, Gabriel’s grace kicked into action and he leaned forward on his haunches, the starlight that glazed his wings rippling. In just two strong beats of his wings, Gabriel felt his taloned feet lift off the ground and into the air.

Sam thought his stomach was going to drop straight to his feet at the swooping sensation, leaving the earth and rocketing into the sky. Adrenaline, terror, joy and freedom raced through his mind all at once. The feeling of the wind sweeping through his hair and enveloping his body was one of pure liberation. He felt like he was leaning his entire body out the window of the impala as Dean drove her as fast as she could go. Gabriel’s body was surprisingly steady beneath him as he flapped his enormous wings, feathers gliding effortlessly over the air.

Sam watched as the ground below them grew smaller, and that greyish hue of the Other World’s sunlight touched his face as the horizon came into view. He could see for miles and miles on end, the landscape stretching out before them like a painting’s canvas. 

“ _ Do you see anything _ ?” Gabriel asked as they flew, his long, spiked neck outstretched as he scanned the landscape. 

_ “No,”  _ Sam replied telepathically, since he didn’t think he had the strength to shout over the roar of the wind in his ears. He peered over Gabriel’s side to watch for anything unusual. There was nothing, only that strange desert like turf that continued to swallow the world. 

_ “Damn,”  _ Gabriel muttered, “ _ it looks like we landed in the middle of some dried up ocean.”  _

Sam was about to reply when something off in the distance caught his eye, a fleck of black in the left corner of his vision. “ _ Wait, what’s that?”  _ He asked, daring to lift his arm off the iron grip it had on Gabe’s back so he could point in the direction. 

Gabriel looked over where Sam was pointing, and the young hunter held on for dear life as they made a left turn. 

“ _ Good eye,”  _ Gabe said, squinting harder so he could see better, “ _ is that a… is that a church?”  _ He asked as they got closer. 

Sam gazed downwards as they approached it, and sure enough, it was what looked to be the remains of some decimated chapel. Wooden boards were strewn about as the walls had been torn down in some spots, and the roof was all but caving inwards. A small stone cross was the only thing that let people know what it used to be, having somehow escaped the destruction of whatever had torn the church apart. 

“ _ We should stop here,”  _ Sam said,  _ “maybe someone left behind a map or something we could use.”  _

Gabriel hesitated, circling over the chapel for a moment instead of landing.  _ “I don’t know, Sammy, I don’t think I can fit in there,”  _ he said, his voice actually apprehensive. 

Sam rolled his eyes,  _ “C’mon, Gabe, you can shift back for five minutes while we check the place out. Nothing will happen in five minutes.” _ He said, a small part of his brain yelling not to jinx them. 

Gabriel huffed but relented, flapping his wings to cushion their landing as they came into contact with the ground.  _ “That’s what they all say, and it never ends well.”  _ He muttered, watching Sam climb down to the ground, making sure he was a good enough distance away before shifting back to his vessel warily.

Sam wanted to reassure him that it would be fine, that he was being a little too on edge, but he couldn’t even say that because it was true. They were completely exposed out here, having no idea what or who lurked in this part of the dimension. He gripped his spear for assurance, the archangel blade glinting in the light. 

“Sam!” Gabriel yelled suddenly, standing in the doorway of the church rigidly.

Snapping his head up at the sound of Gabriel’s calls, Sam cocked his gun and sprinted over to the angel, ready to fight. He was about to ask what was wrong, when his eyes fell on what Gabriel was staring at in horror. 

There were no warriors ready to attack them, instead a man (human by the look of how much blood was on the floor), lay slumped against the wall. His breaths were shallow, and his eyes lifted to look up at them sluggishly. He smiled a bloodstained grin, causing a shiver to run through Sam. “You’d better run,” the man croaked, a wheezy laugh escaping with a splatter of blood, “he’s coming.” He whispered, and with those words and one last breath, he shuddered and died. 

Sam could only stare with wide eyes, confused and terrified all at once. Blood had flowed through a wound in his stomach, presumably killing him, but there were no weapons in sight. Had he killed himself? Or did he just wander into the church to die? His words haunted Sam, and the young hunter didn’t have to guess who the man was referring to when he said ‘He’.

Gabriel was standing over the body, eyes staring at it intently. He rested two fingers on the man’s forehead briefly, before snatching his hand back like he’d been burned. He looked at Sam somberly, shoulders still rigid. “He wasn’t killed by Michael… but it was one of his angels. The corruption in the residual grace is more than enough.” He said. 

Sam sighed, eyes resting on the man whose name they never knew, slumped over in his own blood. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the familiar sound of flapping wings. The two looked at each other briefly before their eyes darted to the doorway, knowing all too well what lay on the other side.


	13. Close Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunt for Michael continues, and Gabe misses his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed the last chapter, because this one is picking up where we left off! Reviews are love and every time you leave a comment, Gabe gets a Sammy hug :)

The squad of Michael’s angels looked like overdressed police officers, standing stiffly in a squad formation as they stared at Sam and Gabriel. Sam was frozen, fear threatening to claw its way out of his throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not this soon, at least! How had they even found them? They hadn’t even tried tapping into angel radio, there should have been no way for them to be tracked down.

“You are trespassing on this land,” the head angel said fiercely, his armored minions poised aggressively behind him, “the penalty is death. Identify yourselves!” 

Gabriel, to Sam’s utter surprise, didn’t seem fazed at all. He almost looked  _ bored,  _ in fact. He rolled his eyes and stood with his arms folded, tisking in an admonishing fashion at the angels. “You kids need to remember to stop playing with daddy’s toys. They don’t belong to you.” He scolded in a mock sing song voice, and the angels looked at each other briefly, confused. They could sense that this being was one of them, but he was acting so human like.

“Identify yourselves!” The lead angel commanded again, his posture more tense. The rest of the angels behind him stood steady, their pupils beginning to glow that dangerous blue. They were preparing to smite.

Sam was desperately trying to reach for his gun without drawing attention to himself, while simultaneously wanting to open his mouth to ask Gabriel what the hell he thought he was doing. It would be tragic, to say the very least, if they died before even finding Michael. The words the dying man had spoken kept reverberating through his skull, and although it was possible he was lying, it was Sam’s experience that generally dead men tell no tales. 

But his worrying train of thought was cut off by the thundering voice of Gabriel’s warrior form. It shook the ground, and the lead angel’s hard expression faltered for a moment, replaced by one of shock and surprise. “ _ You’re just young children playing with fire.”  _ Gabriel growled, _ “Time to grow up.”  _

Sam’s mind struggled to wrap itself around just how quickly Gabriel had shifted, because when he glanced to his left, the shorter man was no longer there. The large dragon was in his place, appearing after a fraction of a second. It’s amber wings were flared out in a display of dominance, showing his years of seniority and power. They never failed to take Sam’s breath away, even when they were in a dire situation like this.

The angels barely had time to gaze up in disbelief and fear, because moments later they dissolved under the blue flames of Gabriel’s fiery grace, their vessels crumbling into ashes. The dragon’s mouth was stretched wide open, its fangs bared as pure light illuminated them. The beast roared in finality as it finished breathing fire, looking to the former angel’s piles of dust in satisfaction. 

Sam was gaping at him, eyes wide. He’d just taken out five full strength angels, saving both their lives in under a minute. Dean would be jealous. What was even more remarkable, though, was that he did such a thing without Sam’s invoking of the command. Sam didn’t even mind speak this time, let alone give an order. He had been stuck, too frozen in fear to think clearly.

“ _ Talk about a bunch of dicks,”  _ Gabriel muttered, irritated as he flicked his tail at the ashes,  _ “did you hear that guy? He sounded like a character out of a bad shakespeare reenactment. I hope you didn’t let ‘em scare you too bad, Samshine.”  _

Sam stared up at his angel in awe, the tiniest quirks of an amazed smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “How did you do that?” He asked, “without me telling you, I mean?” 

The archangel paused for a moment, as if he was caught off guard by a question he didn’t know the answer to.  _ “Hmm,”  _ he murmured in contemplation, “ _ I guess I was just so worried about you, I kind of did it without really thinking.”  _

Sam definitely didn’t miss the protective tone in that statement, his soul beaming a little at the thought of his angel getting all worked up over his safety. He settled for resting a hand on the tip of Gabriel’s snout, stroking it affectionately. The dragon leaned into his touch and chirped, a loud and high pitched trill like that of a bird, and this time, Sam couldn’t suppress the laugh that made its way out of his chest. It was something one would hear from a dove cooing early in the morning.

“ _ What?”  _ Gabriel asked insecurely, as though he was suspecting Sam of laughing at his appearance. His vessel’s tiny statue always made him more self conscious, even though many angels were vain creatures to begin with.

“Nothing, you’re perfect,” Sam said hurriedly without thinking, just wanting his angel to quickly dispel the thought that he was anything but amazing, “just… why do you make those noises?” 

Sam thought that if he could’ve, the dragon would have blushed. His feathers ruffled slightly and he bowed his enormous head. “ _ I, uh,”  _ he stammered lowly,  _ “I can’t really control those. No angel can. They just kind of happen.”  _

The young hunter couldn’t help it. He managed to contain the smallest of giggles, sparing Gabe just a bit of embarrassment.  _ That’s fucking adorable,  _ he thought to himself, eager to tell Dean that the mightiest soldiers of the lord really sounded like a mix of birds and whales. It seemed harsh, but he had to admit it was true. They chirped and cooed, and at one point Sam even thought he heard a ‘barking’ noise.

He wanted to stay with his palm resting on the dragon's snout, talking and listening and learning. He wanted to hear every sound and angel could make and know the meaning behind each one. But their current situation quickly caught up with them, and he cleared his throat nervously, remembering the words the dying man had just told them. “We need to go,” he said decidedly, not thinking twice as he climbed onto Gabe’s back, “there’ll probably be more angels coming, and you heard what the guy said- Michael’s nearby.” 

Gabriel chuffed in agreement, craning his neck to look up at Sam with those bottomless eyes. “ _ You’re right- but how do we know where to go? The poor dude kicked it before we could ask him where Michael’s hideout is. _ ” He said, confused. 

Sam furrowed his brows as the desert wind whipped his hair around, frustrated that he couldn’t tap into angel radio. “This would be so much easier if I could just use my GPS.” He said flatly, wracking his brain for alternate ideas. 

“ _ I know _ ,” Gabriel tried to console, “ _ but it’s not worth it, kiddo. I don’t know how those amateurs found us, _ ” he gestured to the ashes of the dead angel squad,  _ “but if we use angel radio, we’re guaranteed to have Michael and his armies hunting us down. And we’re supposed to be the hunters, not the hunted. _ ” 

Sam sighed, resigning himself to the fact that they’d just have to keep going and hope something else turned up soon. “Alright,” he murmured, gripping the scales of Gabriel’s back firmly, “ _ fly.”  _

The dragon crooned and soared into the air, the initial feeling of being weightless starting to become less scary to Sam. The wind howled around him as they flew, and Sam dutifully looked for any sign of civilization. The best possible result they could get would be if they found a camp of hunters, similar to the one Mom and jack were at, who could assist them in locating and taking out Michael. But that was a far cry from the barren landscape they were in now, and Sam knew they’d be lucky to even find a sign of life out here. And as the seconds ticked into minutes, and the minutes ticked into hours, Sam started to feel himself grow drowsy. The body beneath him was warm and firm, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. 

_ “How long have we been flying? _ ” Sam asked drowsily, shaking his head to rouse himself. 

_ “A couple of hour- oh, thank dad, look, Sam!”  _ Gabriel exclaimed, stopping mid sentence to grab at Sam’s soul with his grace and show him the direction he was talking about. 

Sam snapped his head up to see what Gabriel was referring to, and he wanted to cry out in joy. A forest, teeming with as much life as anything could in this dead world, towered off in the distance, marked by a winding river that snaked around its border. 

“ _ You think Michael is anywhere near here?”  _ Sam asked, hoping that the ex archangel had maybe a refuge set up in a place where there was better coverage. 

Gabriel chuffed, flapping his giant wings more slowly as they approached the forest, preparing to land.  _ “You need a few minutes of shut eye.”  _ He declared, purposefully not answering Sam’s question, _ “Then we can look for my big bro.”  _ He said. 

_ “What?!”  _ Sam exclaimed,  _ “No way! We don’t have time to take a fucking nap, we barely have 30 hours left! We need to find Michael before he finds a way to open his own rift, one that will actually let him through!”  _

Treetops flew by as they got lower and lower to the ground, a small clearing making its appearance known.  _ “You’re about to drop, Sam a Lam,”  _ Gabriel stated seriously,  _ “we’ll only stop for an hour or two at most. You need to rest your eyeballs.”  _

“ _ But Michael-“  _

_ “How do you expect to find him when you can’t even sit up straight?”  _ Gabriel pointed out. 

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it when he noticed his own exhaustion. Gabe was right- he was slouching in a half lying position, limbs heavy and deadweight. His head kept lilting to the side, and he barely had a grip on the scales anymore. He wasn’t in any condition to find Michael, let alone fight him. 

The sound of branches snapping echoed through the woods as Gabriel landed in the clearing, which wasn’t quite big enough for him. He made room by crushing half a dozen trees under his mammoth sized claws, smoothing out the earth below them like a wrinkled cloth. He flexed his feathered wings, making sure they had enough space before circling like a dog and laying down. He lowered his haunches, allowing Sam to slip down to the ground.

“You do realize this is like looking for a the needle in a haystack, right?” Sam asked, sitting down cross legged on the forest floor. “We have no idea where Michael is, and we won’t be able to find him unless you let me detect a presence.” 

Gabriel circled his body around Sam, effectively trapping him in a protective guard of scales and glowing wings.  _ “It’s not as hopeless as you think,”  _ he chuffed, nudging Sam to lay down with his snout,  _ “if I know my brother, he’ll be bringing out all the bells and whistles to recruit people for his fight. Michael doesn’t like to do anything without putting on a show.”  _

“What do you mean?” Sam questioned, lying down with his back against the dragons side, still keeping a grip on his spear. He felt a playful shove of Gabriel’s grace, like an older sibling ruffling the youngers hair. 

“ _ Michael’s always been a public speaker. Rally the troops, unite the warriors, that type of thing.”  _ Gabriel reminisced,  _ “it’s what made him so popular upstairs. It’s easy to get behind him when he opens his mouth, he convinces you that he’s got your best interests at heart.”  _

The young hunter scoffed at that, gesturing to the dilapidated world around them, “So you think we’ll just stumble upon one of his pep rallies?” He asked, not even batting an eye as he tugged the edge of a large wing over him like a blanket. He’d never live this down if dean saw him in a position like this. 

_ “Most likely.”  _ Gabriel answered, “ _ Something similar. Like I said, he’ll be looking for recruits, even humans. He’ll manage to spread the word in a way no one can ignore.” _

Sam frowned bitterly, turning to lay on his side. “No human, corrupt or not, would ever volunteer for him. When you say recruit, you mean enslave.” He huffed, absently relishing in the warmth that radiated from the being beneath him. He felt a pang of sadness, however, when he noticed that Gabriel’s grace had wilted slightly at the statement. Feelings of wistfulness and nostalgia mixed with sadness, rippling through Sam’s soul like water. It was easy for him to forget just how much the archangel missed his family. That was definitely something Sam could relate to, and he suddenly felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that he and Dean had once accused Gabriel of being a coward, of running away when everyone needed him most. Now Sam could understand, and he really couldn’t blame him. It was hard to watch the people you loved fighting, killing each other, even. It’d been difficult enough to witness when Dean and Cas had their brief falling out. 

_ “You’re right,”  _ Gabriel admitted,  _ “he’s too far gone now. Hell, this isn’t even the real Michael. Not even close to the one I used to know.” _

The unspoken words lingered as Sam fell asleep, ‘ _ I just wish for a moment that it was.’ _


	14. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel come face to face with the enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I am super excited to show you guys an amazing fan art I got from a reader and deviantartist- it’s an amazing dragon!gabe and Sam photo! Huge thanks to V-vianNG for drawing this for me! Comments and reviews are super loved, thank you for reading! Also, check out V-vianNG’s work on deviantart! My own illustration will be coming soon as well, so stay tuned!

<https://ilovehowl33.deviantart.com/art/AngelRider-fanart-750169847>

 

 

Sam was amazed by just how tired he truly was. He slept deep and dreamlessly, his body soaking up every ounce of rest it could before he was woken, Gabriel gently nudging him with his snout.

_ “Sammy… wake up, kiddo, I think I can sense a presence on Michael.”  _ Gabe said softly, not wanting to jostle his human too much. If he was being honest, he’d picked up on the arch angel’s grace about thirty minutes ago. But it was faint and more distant then than it was now, and Sam needed more sleep than he’d let on.

Sam’s eyes snapped open at the statement, and he practically jumped to his feet in a single movement. Swaying uneasily on his sleep-lax legs, he gripped the spear for support as it leaned against the ground. He looked at Gabe in disbelief, as if the angel should have woken him sooner. “What?” He demanded, “Where?”

The dragon's nostrils flared, sniffing as if trying to pick up a trail. “ _ I’m not exactly sure, but I can feel it. He’s close by.”  _ Gabriel said, galaxy filled eyes blinking rapidly. 

“How long was I asleep?” Sam questioned nervously, praying it wasn’t too long. This was their chance, and they had to jump on it. 

_ “About an hour.”  _ The angel answered dutifully, trying and failing to suppress a smirk when Sam’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. He whipped out his phone to check the timer, hoping it wasn’t true and wondering why Gabriel was being so nonchalant about things. The screen on his cell read his greatest fears in bold lettering: 29 hours. 29 hours left to kill Michael, make sure he’s dead, get back to the rift and seal off the world forever. 

The young hunter spun around to Gabriel. “Why didn’t you- how could you- ugh!” He groaned, realizing they didn’t even have enough time for him to get frustrated.  _ Which I have a right to,  _ he thought begrudgingly. 

Gabe stood perched on his talons, looking almost amused at the human. Sam absently wondered how it was possible for such a powerful, beautiful creature to look both indescribably regal and fucking amused at the same time. “Why aren’t you taking this more seriously?” Sam demanded, grabbing the spear and slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

The archangel lowered a shoulder blade for him to climb up on, making that cooing noise again from deep in the dragon’s throat. “ _ Because Michael isn’t that far away, Samshine.”  _ He said calmly, eyeing the hunter for a reaction.

Sam raised an eyebrow, confused. “What?” He breathed, “What are you talking about?”

_ “According to his grace signature, I’d say he’s in about a… two mile radius? _ ” Gabriel replied. 

Sam balked, scrambling up to rest on the dragon’s back, grabbing a shaky hold of the spiraled horns. Two miles? The ultimate form of destruction, the very thing they were risking their lives to destroy was only  _ two miles?  _ The gas station in Lebanon, Kansas was two miles! Dean’s favorite diner in Sioux falls was two miles! Michael was  _ not  _ supposed to be this easy to find. And if he was that close, who knew what kind of danger they were in? The archangel had his troops everywhere, and Sam didn’t doubt that the ones he and his angel encountered earlier were only the tip of the iceberg. 

 “Well, let’s go!” Sam exclaimed, not wasting any time to scold or question Gabriel. He could vent everything later- what mattered now was ahead of them. He checked to make sure that the archangel blade was still securely attached to the spear, that the welding hadn’t come undone in any type of way. 

“ _ Whoa, whoa, whoa,”  _ Gabriel paused, refusing to move,  _ “what exactly is our plan, here, kiddo? Just bust in, guns blazing? That sounds more like Deano’s style, not yours.” _

Sam resisted the immense urge to roll his eyes, every minute they weren’t moving towards Michael ticking against him like an irritating bug. It was true, he had to admit- he didn’t really have an intricate plan laid out. He was so focused on simply finding the corrupt archangel, he hadn’t really thought about how they would attack. He was supposed to be the “smart” one, the rational one who put thought into getting what they wanted. Gabriel was right, blind ambushing was more of Dean’s style than his own. And sometimes, to his brother’s credit, it did work. But it busting the door down without a plan always had it’s risks and drawbacks, and this time, Sam knew it was a cost they couldn’t afford.

“Alright,” He said, forcing himself to take a deep breath, “what do you think we should do?” It could have been Sam’s imagination, but he swore he felt Gabriel’s grace brighten when the young hunter asked him for his input, his help.

_ “From what I can pick up, and it’s not much, Michael is surrounded by other angels.”  _ Gabriel said, trying his hardest to pick up more information from the faint buzz of the energy signature his not-brother was giving off.

“How many?” Sam asked, trying to gauge whether they should divide and conquer or not.

_ “I don’t know,”  _ Gabriel muttered, chuffing frustratedly,  _ “the signal isn’t all that great. The only thing I can tell for sure is that they’re lower ranking angels, lower than seraphs. Probably just like the ones we ran into at the church.”  _

Sam’s eyes brightened, hope springing up in his chest. They’d taken those guys out, no problem- if that was the only thing standing between them and Michael, then it would be easier than he thought. “That’s great,” he exclaimed, “then we can just blast them away and it’ll be us and Michael.”

Gabriel looked hesitant, his tail flicking back nervously. His lack of sureness was making him think twice, and he realized that was another thing the grace bond had done to him. Before, he would’ve gone into battle, no problem. Now, here he was, hesitating about something he never thought he would hesitate for. He had more to live for, now. He had Sam, Sam’s life attached to his own. It made him realize just how little he cared whether he lived or died before. Maybe a part of him had wanted to die, all those years ago at the Elysian Fields motel when he tricked Lucifer, maybe a part of him was just so tired of the heartache, that he wouldn’t have minded falling into an eternal slumber. But now he had Sam Winchester depending on him, and suddenly he was filled with a desire to survive that he hadn’t felt in eons. “ _ I can’t tell how many there are, though, Sammy,”  _ He said quietly,  _ “what if there’s an entire army waiting for us?” _

__ Sam laid his palm on the dragon’s back, reaching out with his soul to nudge the archangel’s grace. “Then we’ll take them out together,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as sure as possible, “you saw what we did back there. I know we can do this. We have to- for our family.”

Gabriel reared his head back, craning his long neck so that he could face Sam. His giant eyes blinked at him with unreadable emotion, galaxies and nebulas shining brightly on display. Sam’s breath hitched just staring at them, the amount of beauty and primordial wonder leaving him in awe. “ _ You’re right, kiddo.”  _ he said, his thundering voice reverberating through Sam’s mind and body, causing him to suppress a shudder. There was a long pause between them, the two just staring at each other, taking in the other’s presence. Sam could feel the wavelengths of protectiveness and adoration flowing from Gabriel’s grace, crashing over his soul like the ocean tide. He felt thousands of years of light and power cascade over him, the very essence of Gabriel surrounding him like a blanket. He suddenly felt very small in comparison to him, so young and insignificant whereas Gabriel was older than time itself, a witness to the creation of the universe. The angel spoke again, bringing the young hunter out of his thoughts and back to the real world.  _ “No matter what happens out there,”  _ Gabriel murmured softly,  _ “just remember that… I love you.”  _

__ A silent choke caused Sam to freeze momentarily, taken aback by how raw and  _ true  _ that statement was. He could feel the surety of the words in his soul, the fierceness of the meaning behind them. An angel of the lord  _ loved  _ him. He didn’t trust his voice to speak, but somehow the words came out, anyway. 

“I love you, too, Gavri’el” he breathed, lips pursed as he swallowed his emotions. He didn’t even notice that he’d spoken Enochian, said Gabriel’s true name. The language had come to him the moment they were bonded, and strangely enough, he found himself having a hard time differentiating his thoughts between English and the angelic language. They stayed like that for what felt like ages, just staring at each other like it was the first time they’d seen themselves. In a way, it was. No words were spoken when they took off. They knew they were ready.

  
  


Michael stood proudly before his troops, satisfied at how they knelt before him in complete and undying fealty. This was his time to right what had been wronged, fix what had been broken. His father may have abandoned him, but he just knew that if he were still here, he’d approve of what his right-hand soldier had done. Michael took pride in always executing his orders the right way. The just way.

“Today, we leave this broken world behind to flourish in a new one.” he announced, lifting his voice so that he could be heard. A true king was  _ always  _ heard. “This new world will be fallen,” he continued, watching the soldiers for any signs of doubt, “but we shall restore it in the eyes of God and make it new again. We shall cast out the evil from it like I cast the devil from Eden, and man will be pointed down the righteous path once more. I, Michael, second born of my father, rightful heir to creation and son of light and justice, conqueror of Lucifer and wielder of the flaming sword, will do this.” 

He paused to let his words be taken in, watching as the angels bowed and as lightning crackled in the distance. He had all the ingredients he needed to open the portal to this new world, his fool of an alternate brother having fallen for his plan. He was confident that once they remade this new earth in the righteous image, Lucifer would no longer be a problem. They’d see- they’d all see how he’d fix mankind, and no one would dare to cross his path. He moved to recite the spell, making sure all his troops were watching, before it happened.

The ground beneath them began to shake, and immediately, Michael knew something was wrong. The angels, while still kneeling, were looking around confused and unsure of what was happening. The grace signature was what hit him first.  _ No,  _ he thought in disbelief,  _ it can’t be… it’s impossible, he’s dead.  _

“Don’t just stand there!” He barked at the angels, “Go! Protect your king-”

Michael was cut off by the eruption of earth and flames before him, throwing his vessel to the ground and drowning out all the sound around him. Before he even had time to process what was happening, he saw it. He saw something he never thought he’d see again. 

His supposedly long dead brother was soaring high above them, his warrior form just as Michael remembered it. Only this time, something was  _ different.  _ He was powerful, far more so than he’d ever been in the past. His grace was practically booming instead of the steady, pathetic thrumming it used to be. It was like he’d been amplified, the weakest of the archangels becoming one of the strongest. Michael grit his teeth in fury, outraged at the unexpected turn of events. How dare his younger brother try and insult him so?! He got to his feet shakily, even more angered by what he saw next. 

His soldiers were panicking like the idiots they were, trying futilely to stop what was above them. They were burning by the dozens, disintegrating beneath the pure flames of archangel grace. His top commanders fell, his most loyal scouts were killed, shriveling beneath the fire. Their vessels boiled and burst under the heat of the heavenly fire, blood splattering the ground while their grace escaped to The Empty. 

“Don’t just stand there, KILL HIM!” Michael shouted, commanding his remaining angels, “Obey your leader and KILL THE TRAITOR!” 

But it was no use. The power the angels had was nothing compared to what they were fighting, and within minutes, Michael was left standing alone. The dragon had picked off every last angel, and nothing was left but a wall of flames where his followers once stood. Eyes on fire, he snapped his head up to watch as Gabriel landed, taloned feet crushing the skulls of the charred vessels that lay scattered on the ground. 

  
  


It took them less than ten minutes to crush the small gathering of soldiers Michael had surrounded himself with. Sam watched and directed from his perch on Gabriel’s back, looking down as the flames engulfed everyone below them. The smell of smoke and burnt human vessels wafted through the air, and if Sam was more aware, he would’ve been nauseous.

But he wasn’t thinking about that. All he was thinking of, all he was focused on in mind and soul, was connecting his power to Gabriel’s. He reached deep within his soul and gave the angel his strength, fueling the grace like coal to a furnace. He relished in the furious look on Michael’s face, shocked and enraged by the unexpected interruption to his plans. 

When the last of his followers had been killed, Sam instructed Gabriel to land, circling around to face Michael. The dragon touched the singed ground without any hesitation, a deafening roar escaping from it’s jaws as it did so. It’s wings flared in an involuntary display of dominance, all six of them unfolding to show its power. Sam smirked when he caught the nervous look that flashed across Michael's face. He clearly hadn’t expected to be challenged by anyone this powerful, and Sam wondered if he even thought this kind of strength still existed. 

Gabe cautiously lowered a shoulder blade, hissing lowly at his other-brother in a clear warning: don’t try anything towards Sam Winchester. Sam slid effortlessly to the ground, smiling at the archangel’s expression of disbelief.

“Hello, Michael.” He smirked, spear in hand. 

Michael quickly schooled his expression back to one of cold neutrality, eyeing Sam curiously. “A human that can witness an archangel’s true form,” he observed, slyly, “impressive. You’re not from around here, are you, little mud monkey? You’re one of those dimension travelers?” 

Sam bristled at the insult, steeling his gaze as he looked at Michael. “You don’t recognize me?” He questioned bitterly, walking closer to the archangel, “I would have thought you might.” He said icily, watching Michael’s every move. 

Michael glanced at him in confusion for a brief second, before recognition and realization dawned over his features. “Winchester.” He breathed, lip curled in disgust at him. 

Sam smiled smugly, shrugging his shoulder. “In the flesh.” He replied.

Michael opened his mouth briefly, as if he was about to say something, before he closed it and turned to the dragon. He smiled sarcastically at Gabriel, folding his arms in an expression of mock surprise. “And you must be the ‘other’ Gabriel!” He exclaimed, strolling towards the dragon. Sam raised his spear in warning, and Gabe hissed venomously at the archangel. “Even in an alternate universe, you always were the weak link.” Michael ground out, staring at his brother with a calculating gaze. Sam tried to hold back a wince when he felt Gabriel’s grace wince slightly at the statement, as if he actually believed Michael’s words. 

The darker man peered at him smugly, tilting his head. “Is this your imp?” He asked casually, gesturing to Sam as if he was an object, “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised. I never thought father would let you have a pet of your very own.”

Gabriel growled low in his throat, baring his teeth at Michael.  _ “Leave him out of this.”  _ He snarled, tail swinging dangerously back and forth. 

“Why?” Michael question simply, leaning back on his heels, “Clearly he’s come to kill me. Aren’t you going to protect your own flesh and blood?” He pleaded mockingly, “Your weak, abandoned shell of a brother?”

Gabriel held his gaze, never once looking away.  _ “You’re not even that, anymore.”  _ He hissed, and Michael’s facade fell at those words. 

Sam knew what Gabriel was doing, and he hoped the could tell that he was following the lead. As Michael was distracted, trying to goad Gabriel on, Sam had the spear positioned in his hand, ready to throw while Michael’s back was turned to him. He was struggling to get a good aim, prepared to pull his arm back to launch the javelin, when the archangel spun around and faced him with glittering blue eyes. He felt his airway close as he was lifted off the ground by his neck, choking and gasping before being thrown painfully to the ground. The last thing he heard was Gabriel’s screaming as black dots started to cloud his vision.


	15. Brief Fanart (NOT A CHAPTER)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry if you thought this was a chapter- it's a little doodle (oil painting) I've been working on for a while, and was hoping that it could be the cover for this story. I know, I know, there's supposed to be feathers on his wings, but that's out of my talent zone :* . So, let me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, huge thanks and shoutout to V-vianNG on deviantart for her continued illustrations of this story (which honestly are better than mine)- check their work out! : https://v-vianng.deviantart.com/

 


	16. Five outta six ain’t bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys and Michael fight a battle where only one side will survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! I just wanna thank you for all your support so far! I continue to encourage people to comment on my writing because every time I get a comment, I feel so happy that someone liked my work and was grabbed by the story line! It’s, like, the best feeling. Also, anyone out there who wants to draw fan art of dragon!gabe or anything else, please PLEASE do! I’ll feature a link to your work in the next chapter!

Sam Winchester was no stranger to pain. He and Dean had gotten beaten and bruised countless times over the years, and the sensation started to become a routine part of their lives. Demons, monsters, ghosts, angels…. There was hardly a being alive that hadn’t kicked their ass. For god’s sake, he’d literally been to hell and back! But this pain was different. Michael was slowly suffocating the life from him, draining his strength like water going down a sink. And as he felt his airway seal up, the young hunter was tempted to give in to the beckoning blackness that began to form at the corners of his vision. Blissful, painless unconsciousness. 

_ Sam! Wake up! Grab the spear!  _ He felt Gabriel’s grace tugging on his soul incessantly, refusing to let him fall asleep. Suddenly remembering the reason they were there in the first place, Sam summoned all of his strength to push against the invisible force holding him down. The force at which he broke through the barrier momentarily stunned Michael, and Sam gulped in air desperately. 

Focusing all his willpower on intertwining his soul with Gabriel’s, Sam ignored the aching pain that had settled in his bones from being tossed so carelessly to the ground. Staggering to his feet, he looked and saw his spear several meters away. 

“ _ Distract him!”  _ Sam yelled to Gabriel telepathically, sending a burst of strength to the archangel through their bond. He grit his teeth and started taking his opportunity when Michael turned his back to him once more. 

The dragon roared deafeningly loud, baring its teeth and knocking Michael around while Sam frantically tried to crawl towards the spear. His legs refused to respond to his body’s commands, limp from being starved of oxygen and the force of the blow.  _ C’mon, Sam, hurry up!  _ He thought to himself, trying to imagine his father’s ordering voice barking in his ears.

“Did you really think you could take me on?” Michael sneered, landing a solid hit on Gabriel’s lower left wing. The dragon hissed in pain, persisting on trying to grab his other-brother in his powerful jaws. He didn’t even bother breathing fire- flames of grace wouldn’t work on an archangel. 

“You always were the weak one, the  _ worthless one, _ ” Michael growled, allowing his true form to manifest. “The extra accessory to Lucifer and I.” His vessel shed and broke immediately as he towered in height, rising up to meet the enormous dragon’s gaze. 

Sam had to keep himself from getting distracted, momentarily dropping his jaw at the sight of Michael’s true form. It wasn’t that much taller than Gabriel’s, but it was  _ bigger.  _ The stick-like limbs were thicker and stronger, and his wings were wider and broader. The archangel could have been beautiful, and Sam supposed that at one time, he might have been. 

But unlike Gabriel’s form, his appearance wasn’t peaceful. That unique, softened glow was absent from him. Gabriel’s features were softened and kind, regal and composed. Michael’s were pointed and cold, tainted in some way that Sam couldn’t name. He looked like a black and white copy of something that was meant to be in color. Perhaps the most disturbing thing that Sam noticed, were his eyes. The eyes of the humanoid face didn’t shine with grace or galaxies like Gabriel’s did- they were  _ empty.  _ Hollowed out like dead trees, an endless pool of nothingness. There were no gleams of starlight or hum of power. It was like something had taken him and poured out all of what made angels  _ angels,  _ and left the husk of a shell in its place. 

Gabriel roared again, diving his head closer to him and clamped his jaw shut over the archangel’s leg-like limb, glowing teeth scissoring down on it. Michael howled in pain and anger, lifting his impossibly long arm and striking Gabe across the face.

Panting with effort, Sam forced himself to crawl faster. The spear was only a few feet away, and, ignoring the shooting pain in his shoulder, he stretched out his hand as far as it would reach to grab the javelin.

That’s when he felt it happen. It was like one of his own limbs had been cut off. The pain caused him to scream himself hoarse, eyes darting to see which one of his legs he had lost. But when he saw that he was unharmed, his face twisted in confusion. The dragon was keening out in pain, a high pitched frequency that Sam was sure would burst glass and the eardrums of any ordinary human. Gabriel’s grace was thrashing in agony, causing Sam’s soul to bounce around like a ship at sea. Everything felt  _ wrong,  _ like the very balance of life itself had shifted. Sam looked up and gazed upon what was easily one of the most horrifying sights he’d ever seen. Michael was holding his sword, spindly hand clutching the hilt, and the dragon was missing one of its gorgeous wings. The right appendage of his second set of wings lay separated from its body on the earth, a mess of blood and feathers. The shoulder where Michael had sliced it off was bleeding a sickening mix of grace and blood, gushing forth from the exposed flesh and tendons like a geyser. A breathtaking flurry of motions hit Sam all at once, making him dizzy with grief and nausea. He felt like a part of him had been ripped away, like the wing had been it’s own individual, someone he’d come to love. It’s feathers no longer shined, having been severed from its host, an the glow that filled Gabriel’s wings was absent in it, leaving it a sickening gray. 

In the midst of the chaos and pain, somehow Gabriel’s voice managed to make it through Sam’s head. “ _ Keep going,”  _ he voice was a faint croak, but Sam could understand,  _ “get the spear.” _ Sam blinked back the tears that had been unknowingly careening down his face. Forcing himself to continue, he crawled faster towards the spear, focused on the object with all his might.

“You foolish, disobedient son!” Michael thundered at the dragon’s writhing form, and his voices were nothing like Gabriel’s. They were all scratchy and shrill, shrieking more than talking, “You dare disrespect your brother!”

Gabriel’s eyes flashed with grace, and in an instant, he was no longer the dragon but his true self. Sam’s soul felt him shift, change into the celestial being he truly was. He rose to his true height, at least several stories tall, and his remaining wings flared out in fury. “You.” He rasped, and shoved Michael back hard, jabbing him in the chest, “Are not.” He shoved him again, sending shock waves of force through the corrupted archangel, “MY BROTHER!” He screamed, and using all the grace he had, Gabriel threw Michael off his feet, sending the archangel tumbling through the air.

Sam doesn’t really remember the next few moments. They happened in a haze, like he was watching them, but not really living them. He saw Michael’s huge form dropping to the ground, shock on his mask like face as he lost his balance. Sam grabbed the spear and jammed it into the ground. He pointed it towards the falling archangel, javelin positioned upwards. Forcing himself to his feet, he ran as far from the blade as he could, knowing he would be crushed by the massive being if he stayed.

The next thing he knew, Michael had landed heavily on the tip of the blade, the weapon slicing through his falling body and sinking through his chest as the gigantic being landed with a thud. The earth quaked when Michael hit the floor, shaking from every corner, throwing Sam off his feet and sending him tumbling back to the ground. Michael’s voices screamed so loud that Sam had to cover his ears, howling and bellowing like an entire city’s cries. A great wind blew through the air, nearly stealing Sam’s breath away and knocking him over, drowning out any thoughts that were racing around in his brain. And then, just as quickly as they had come, the voices stopped. The wind ceased its howling, and the shrieking fell silent. 

Ever so slowly, Sam lifted his shaking hands away from his ears and opened his eyes cautiously. He was kneeling on the ground, dry earth beneath him. The bottom of his jeans were dusted in a black powder, sparking slightly. He furrowed his brow and tentatively brushed his fingertips over it, following the pattern. The blackness was burned into the ground, winding several feet long around him, and Sam’s eyes widened when he realized they were Michael’s wing prints. His gaze followed the wings over to the still body, stuck forever in its grotesque true form. The eyes of all the faces were closed, the body dulled and grey. The skeletal hand was still clinging to the sword, giant appendages wrapped around the hilt in his last attempt to win. He was dead. 

Sam huffed out a trembling breath, staring at the form in shock. He was afraid to move, waiting for the angel to burst back to life with more strength than before, saying that his death was just a trick. But the minutes ticked by, and the being never even twitched. He was gone, and it was done. They had done it. Wait… they… Gabriel…

“Gabe!” Sam shouted, remembering what had happened, clambering to his feet and whirling around to look for his angel.

The dragon and true form were gone, and in their place was Gabriel’s human vessel, lying hunched on the ground. His sandy colored hair was disheveled, and although nothing appeared to be wounded on him physically, he was shaking and coated in sweat. Sam’s heart dropped to his stomach and he ran to the angel, skidding to a halt and dropping to his knees beside him. 

“Gabriel! Gabe, wake up! We did it, he’s dead!” Sam exclaimed, cupping his cheek gently.  _ Please wake up, please wake up, please wake up. _

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered open, his face creased in pain as his gaze focused on Sam. “Sammich?” He croaked, smiling when he saw that the younger hunter was ok.

At that simple word, that silly nickname that Sam had once wished Gabe would stop calling him, the youngest Winchester fell apart. He closed his eyes in sorrow, tears falling against his will. Gabriel had lost a wing, one of the most important parts to an angel, and it was all his fault. He should’ve never let Gabriel try to distract Michael on his own, he should’ve stepped in and helped. He was so focused on getting the one thing they had that could Michael, that he’d let his angel pay the price. He felt the loss when Gabe’s wing was severed, felt the overwhelming sweep of grief that the archangel experienced. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered brokenly, holding him close to his chest, “I’m sorry, Gabe. I never meant to leave you to fight him by yourself, I-I’m so sorry.” 

Gabriel exhaled shakily and rested a trembling hand on Sam’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath. “It’s not your fault,” he breathed, trying desperately to reassure the man, “I promise it’s not. I’ll live, Sammy, I’m not… not gonna die. L-losing one wing c-can’t kill me. I’ll just be… out of commission, for a while, that’s all. It wasn’t one of my flight wings, I can still fly.” 

Sam shook his head miserably, refusing to look at the archangel. “I did this to you,” he wept, guilt strangling him, “your wings are beautiful and wonderful and you’ll never get that one back. I-I left you with him, I… I’m so sorry.” 

Gabriel tsked softly in disapproval, moving his hand to rest against Sam’s neck. “It’s not your fault, Sam,” he repeated, “I chose to go up against him, you understand? It was my choice. I’ll be fine, alright?” 

Sam looked at him doubtfully, going to help him sit up. Gabriel coughed a couple of times, his breath hitching in his chest. He grabbed one of Sam’s hands tightly, forcing the human to look at him. “Sam,” he said seriously, making sure the man was listening to him, “it  _ wasn’t  _ your fault. I’m older than time itself, I’m grown enough to make my own decisions. You didn’t leave me to do anything because  _ I  _ chose to fight my brother. And look, we did it!” He exclaimed, gesturing to where Michael lay, wiping away tears from Sam’s cheek, “You and me, kiddo, we saved the world!”

Sam laughed brokenly, trying his best to give Gabriel a smile. It was true, they had saved the world. Michael couldn’t tear apart any more worlds, couldn’t hurt any more people. He looked adoringly at his angel, guilt lessening as he was calmed by Gabriel’s presence. They’d be alright. He knew they would be. 

“We should go,” Gabe said suddenly, grasping Sam for support as they stood up slowly, “more of his angels will be heading this way when they find out he’s dead.” 

Sam’s mouth went dry as he realized the situation they were in. “But Gabe,” He stammered, “your wing- you’re not well enough to fly us all the way back to the portal.” 

Gabriel smirked at the young hunter, swallowing down his dizziness. “We don’t have to,” He said, gesturing to the table of ingredients Michael had gathered to open his rift. “We use those, get back home, and seal off our rift and that one for good.” 

Sam didn’t waste any time questioning him, instead taking Gabriel’s arm around his waist and supporting him as they walked. He tried to keep his hands from shaking as he hurriedly mixed the objects together, mumbling the words of the spell he’d heard Rowena say under his breath. 

The crackling portal appeared in front of them in under a second, wavering slightly as it suspended itself in the air. A thought suddenly struck Sam, and he squeezed Gabriel’s bicep reassuringly before darting over to Michael’s body where the spear was impaled. 

Sam climbed up Michael’s chest, the size of his torso being about a football field long and eight feet thick. He rushed over to where the spear was, and using all of his strength, Sam pulled the javelin out of the dead angel’s flesh. The archangel blade glinted with that sickening mix of grace and blood, the last remnants of the other Michael. 

Grabbing the spear, Sam rushed over to where Gabriel was waiting for him, slightly hunched over. He had every intention of figuring out how to heal an angels wound when they got home, refusing the thought of letting Gabriel use up his already fragile grace healing it by himself. “Let’s go,” he murmured, reaching for the angels hand again, only to see that Gabriel was distracted. He was looking over to where his severed wing lay, sad and lonely without its owner. Sam’s stomach clenched at the sight, and he felt even worse when he realized that they were going to leave it here. Something that beautiful shouldn’t have to be abandoned in a dead wasteland. But the idea of carrying a severed body part home was even worse, not to mention it would probably only serve to make Gabriel more upset. Fighting the urge to believe that it was his fault, Sam grabbed Gabe’s hand gently and pulled him close. 

“Are you ready?” He asked, giving Gabriel the opportunity to say if he wanted to hold on to the wing or not. 

After a quiet pause, Gabriel nodded, tearing his eyes away from something that once bathed in the light of heaven. He squeezed Sam’s hand slightly, reassuring the hunter that everything was alright, before the corner of his lips lifted up slightly. 

“Let’s go home.” He said tiredly, his body still exhausted from the trauma of losing his wing. Sam didn’t need to hear another word before pulling them both through the rift, taking them back home.


	17. Home At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe get back and have an important discussion about the future- feelings are expressed and confusing things become clearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for reading, and please PLEASE comment your thoughts! I appreciate all your support with this story! (if you want to check out my other one-shot work I just posted, 'The Girl Who Grieved The Devil', I encourage you to check it out! ) Thanks!

The second they blasted through the portal, Sam made quick work of sealing the other world away. He closed the channels, both the one they’d used originally and the one they’d created with Michael’s ingredients, as fast as he could. He recited the words of the spell hurriedly, watching as both rifts crackled and sparked before dissolving into nothing. 

Shoulders sagging with relief, Sam peered around the house cautiously. He searched each room for any creature that could have intruded while they were gone, gun pointed and ready. When he was convinced that the house was empty but for the two of them, he sighed heavily and tossed his gun and the still-bloodied spear on the floor. He still couldn’t quite believe what they’d done. They’d killed Michael, and if Lucifer was still there, they’d sealed him away, too. He dared not let himself think it was over, because in the Winchester’s lives, nothing ever was, but he took comfort knowing that they’d eliminated at least one threat for now.

Gabriel lay sprawled on the couch, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. Sam felt guilt settle in his stomach once more, trying and failing to swallow it down. “Gabe?” He asked softly, going to sit on the edge of the couch next to him, “Are you OK?” It was a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t ok, he’d lost a wing.  _ No,  _ Sam thought angrily to himself, remembering the way Michael so viciously attacked his own brother,  _ he didn’t lose it. It was stolen from him.  _

The young hunter expected Gabriel to be at the very least melancholy, to be angry or upset or depressed, which was why he was shocked at the angel’s answer.

Gabriel’s brows furrowed in slight confusion and surprise, looking down at himself before turning to Sam with a small smile. “You know what?” He breathed, a puzzled chuckle escaping him, “I am. I actually am. For once, I… I’m really ok, Sammy.”

Sam stared at him worriedly, hoping that Gabriel hadn’t gone hysterical in his grief despite the angel’s genuine smile. “Are you sure?” He asked carefully, looking him over. 

Gabriel nodded, still looking surprised at himself. “I don’t know why, but I don’t feel like I’ve lost anything.” He said.

Sam licked his lips nervously, going to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Look, it’s normal at first to think that if you ignore something, the pain’ll go away, but-”

“But there is no pain.” Gabriel interrupted, eyes widening in realization before looking up Sam in awe, “Sam,” he gasped, “I think… I think you  _ are  _ my wing.” 

The young hunter frowned in confusion. “What?” He asked, “What are you talking about?”

Gabriel still looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe what was happening, “When we were grace bonded, I think you became like an extra wing. Wings aren’t just physical things used for flying, they’re part of an angel’s grace. Especially the second set, the ones I normally tuck away. That’s why I’m not still reeling from losing it, Sam, I never really did. You, your soul, actually, replaced the one I lost.”

Sam had to keep himself from gaping, unable to really process what he’d just said. “B-but,” he stammered, “but I  _ saw  _ it die! I saw the wing get severed, it’s gone!”

“The physical manifestation is,” Gabriel corrected, “it always takes a while for those to show up.”

Sam rubbed his aching forehead, trying to wrap his brain around everything that was happening. He didn’t know what to make of what Gabriel was telling him- was the man simply delirious with grief and shell shocked from the near death experience? Or was what he was saying actually possible?  _ What am I saying, of course I believe Gabe,  _ he thought tiredly to himself,  _ you can’t make this stuff up- is my soul really that powerful, though?  _ Sam didn’t know, considering the fact that he’d never seen or come into contact with a human soul before. He was just glad that Gabriel wasn’t hurting anymore.

“You’re sure you don’t need me to, you know, clean the wound?” Sam asked, wondering how he would even do that. Do angels get infections? Can you stitch up a celestial skin cut? All the possibilities and unknowns just made the hunter’s head swim even more. 

Gabriel shook his head no, unconsciously reaching between his shoulder blades. “Nah, it’ll heal by itself.” He replied. “And if I’m right, it won’t take long for a new one to grow in from the power you’re giving me.” 

Sam didn’t say anything, letting his long hair fall over his eyes.

Gabriel frowned, raising an eyebrow at him. “You ok, kiddo?” He asked quietly, hoping Sam was just tired. They’d been gone in another dimension, battling mostly without sleep for a solid 24 hours. He didn’t doubt that the man was exhausted. The winter wind rattled the window panes from outside, gently reminding them that they were still hidden from the world, far away in Iceland. 

“Where do we go from here, Gabe?” Sam asked hoarsely, eyes red but not yet crying, “I mean, I’m glad we stopped Michael, and God, I’m thankful we’re alive, but… But what now? We’re still here, in the middle of nowhere, and everybody probably thinks we’re dead. How the hell am I going to face everyone? Cas, my mom, Jack… Dean. What if someone is in danger looking for us? And Lucifer, we don’t even  _ know  _ where he is, and-”

“Sam!” Gabriel cut his tangent short, locking eyes with him as he gripped the taller man’s shoulder firmly. Sam looked lost when he stared at him, tears finally falling, “Everything’s gonna be ok.” 

The younger hunter shook his head, the question that had been weighing on him so heavily ever since all of this began finally voicing itself. “What’ll happen to us, Gabe?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t live forever, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to watch everyone I love get old and die while I’m still here.”

Gabriel’s eyes softened as he realized what Sam was so worried about. If their life forces were tied together, then they would die when the other died, be that Sam or himself. It was a waiting game of uncertainty, like being attached to a conjoined twin. No matter what you did, you did it with the other person. He remembers the legends in heaven, that Enoch’s descendant lived to be 2,000 years old and eventually entered heaven when he angel he was bonded to had to go back. But Sam didn’t want to be immortal, didn’t want to have an angel’s life. He wasn’t supposed to, he was a human. He wanted a human life.  _ And I’ll be damned, he deserves it, too,  _ the archangel thought, pursing his lips. “That’s not what’ll happen to you, I promise.” He assured gently, resting his hand on Sam’s. “You’re gonna live a nice, long life with your friends and family, your pain in the ass brother,” Sam chuckled at that, “and when the time comes, I bet you’ll die at a ripe old age, with a wife and kids, the whole shabang.”

Sam smiled wetly, hazel eyes sad as he looked at his angel. “But what about you?” He asked.

Gabriel scoffed, smirking at Sam. “What about me?” He questioned, folding his arms, “I’m not going anywhere- I’ll be robbing Dean blind at poker and helping you do whatever it is you want to. Hell, maybe I’ll even get a job… you think NASA is still hiring astronauts?”

“Gabe, I’m serious!” Sam exclaimed. 

“So am I, you know how many girls I’ll get if I can say I went to space?”

“Gabriel,” Sam said solemnly, “you’re an  _ archangel.  _ You don’t age, you can literally live forever. I got another forty, fifty years at best. You have another  _ billion. _ You can’t throw that away because of me! If I die at a normal age, you’ll die, too, having been cut short by an eternity.”

Gabriel smiled wistfully, leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed. The amount of wisdom in those whisky eyes still took Sam’s breath away, the sheer volume of experience and knowledge. “I’ve been around for a long,  _ long  _ time, kiddo.” He said softly, smiling at Sam, “I’ve seen the first dinosaur crawl on land and the first fire started by humans. You’re right, I  _ can _ live another infinite amount of eternities… But time loses its meaning when you don’t have someone to share it with, someone to stick around for.” 

Sam huffed a breath, looking away. “You’re just saying that,” he mumbled. 

There was a long pause between the two of them before Gabriel shifted, turning to look Sam dead in the eyes. The hunter paused his self-wallowing, allowed himself to stop feeling guilty for a second because he wanted to hear what Gabe was saying. He looked at him curiously, lips unable to form words. 

“Let me tell you something  _ true,”  _ he said, grabbing at Sam’s soul with his grace, “something you don’t have to wonder whether it’s a trick or not. You believe I’m being truthful here?” He asked, and Sam searched and searched, but he couldn’t find a trace of dishonesty in those eyes. Gabriel’s grace was solid against his soul, unwavering. He nodded, seeing the angel was being truthful. 

“The past few weeks that I’ve gotten to know you, the time I’ve had to spend with you, have been better than the last  _ thirteen billion years  _ I’ve had without you. One minute with you, Sam Winchester, is worth more than ten thousand years of being treated like a king and getting to do whatever I wanted.” He said, not hesitating once. 

Sam didn’t trust his voice to speak, which was just fine because his throat was too swollen with emotion to make a sound, anyway. He looked at Gabe in awe, allowing himself to be wonderstruck for just one moment. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, like a heavy rock he’d been carrying for ages had disappeared. This being, this literal extension of God,  _ loved  _ him. Out of billions of years and billions of people, he chose  _ him.  _ He seriously chose him.

“But what if the world needs you again?” He somehow managed to choke out, words leaving his mouth without permission, “What if people need your help? You’ll be stuck with me.” 

Gabriel smiled that smile of ethereal wisdom, that look of  _ peace  _ in his eyes contagious. “Sammich, there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with… And hey, if something happens down the road, we’ll take care of it. We’ll find a way.” He said softly. His words were so sure, and although Sam had learned the hard way that talk was cheap and actions were worth more, he couldn’t help but put his faith in what Gabriel had said. 

Sam was glad Dean wasn’t there to see the fat teardrops rolling down his cheeks, otherwise he’d never let him live it down. “You’re sure this is what you want?” Sam asked again, “You’d rather spend the next eternity here on earth and with me than in paradise? The garden of eden or something?” 

Gabriel laughed at that, a genuine  _ laugh.  _ His voice was light and his eyes shined as he looked at Sam with a hint of amusement. “Sammy, the garden of eden isn’t a place,” he chuckled at Sam’s brief confused look, “people always get confused with that. It was never an actual garden. It’s wherever my dad is. It’s wherever there’s love.” 

The younger hunter’s eyes widened, and he knew he probably looked like a 6’4 goldfish with his mouth opening and closing so much. But he didn’t care. And suddenly, nothing else mattered. The future didn’t matter, the past didn’t matter… all that mattered was that single moment, that one second of understanding. Sam couldn’t explain how, but he  _ understood.  _ Adam and Eve were in paradise because they were  _ loved so much.  _ And hell was so torturous because it completely lacked love. So many things that were unclear to him before became visible. He just let the feeling wash over him like a wave breaking on the sand, and launched himself into Gabriel’s arms. 

“I love you and your family,” Gabriel hummed into his hair gently, “and I will never let anything happen to it.”

Somehow, Sam knew that when Gabe said ‘family’, he meant all of humanity.

  
  



	18. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel return home. Reunions are made, things are said, and something happened while our boys were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! So I’ve purposefully been keeping Dean and the others POV out of the picture until now- sorry to leave you with the cliffhanger, but you’ll thank me later:) also, every time you comment, Gabe gets a hug.

Sam and Gabriel slept deep and dreamlessly that night, both recovering from the traumatic events that had rocked their day. There was a bed upstairs, but the couch seemed extremely inviting when a wave of tiredness consumed them both. Sam’s consciousness kept reminding him of what a ‘chick flick moment’ it was until he fell asleep, just imagining what someone would think if they beheld the sight of the smaller archangel wrapped around the mighty hunter like an octopus. Gabriel had unconsciously shifted into his true form sometime during the night, wrapping Sam up against his chest in a cocoon of feathers. He was vaguely surprised just how small the 6’4” hunter felt against the frame of his wings, cradled like a sleeping baby. Neither of them woke up once as the wind howled outside, and the older house shook and shuddered with it.

Gabriel’s new wing had physically manifested the morning they woke up, unfurling from his shoulder like a dewy new plant. They had both laughed for a solid five minutes after seeing that it hadn’t grown back the same color, leaving Gabriel with 5 matching wings and one strange one. It was just as strong and capable as the others, Sam had felt it beneath his fingertips, just as large and beautiful. But unlike the other amber colored appendages, this one was a bright, platinum blonde. It was nearly white, it was so blonde. It shimmered silver in the light, and the liquid-like vibrations of Gabriel’s grace pulsed steadily beneath it.  _ “It’s almost the same color Luci’s were,”  _ Gabriel had said in reminiscence, admiring it fondly in the mirror,  _ “before he fell, I mean. He had the most beautiful wings out of all of us.”  _

Sam was still uneasy whenever Gabriel mentioned Lucifer, despite the knowledge that the Lucifer Gabe used to know was completely different than the monster haunting them now. He supposed it’s because the person Gabe adored so much, the ‘morningstar’, was someone he’d never even met. He didn’t know this magnificent, mighty older brother. He could only hope that Lucifer had once been as important to Gabriel as Dean was to him.

Dean… Just thinking about him made Sam’s stomach roll as they prepared to leave that morning. He’d be pissed, that was for sure. Sam didn’t even bat an eye of doubt at that. He had a right to be, of course. He’d broken their promise of doing everything together. He found it funny that it didn’t even matter he’d broken it to save Dean’s life- it remained broken, all the same.

A part of Sam wanted to ride back to his family in blazing glory, perched atop a version of the dragon that they could actually see. He wanted to watch as their jaws dropped in amazement, wanted to see them marvel and be  _ proud  _ of him as he showed them the spear he’d used to kill the being that would have destroyed their world. Maybe if he returned in that way, they’d forget about rejecting him. Maybe they’d drop their anger in favor of pride, cheering at the overwhelming accomplishment they’d managed to complete. But the young hunter knew better than that. Nothing he did would make up for the worry and pain he caused them, the betrayal of trust he committed. And while he knew it was unrealistic, a small voice inside his head kept chanting the question he’d kept asking himself since he left for Stanford.  _ What if this is the last straw? You’ve already pushed Dean so much with your stupid mistakes and your selfishness. He has more than enough of a reason to leave you behind. This could be the final straw.  _

__ “You ready, kiddo?” Gabe asked, absentmindedly re-spray painting a warding sigil that they’d blasted during one of their ‘practice’ sessions.

“I’m nervous.” Sam choked out, the only pathetic words he could muster. 

Gabriel scoffed, tossing the empty paint can to the floor, “Yeah, me too. You know how much fun Cassie’s gonna poke at me for having mismatching wings? I look like a walking version of ‘where’s waldo’. I’m gonna have to think of something  _ really  _ big to distract them enough to leave me alone.” 

Sam glared at him half-heartedly, wringing his hands together. “Will you knock it off? Dean is going to kill me. Don’t you have any celestial wisdom to help with stuff like this?”

Gabriel huffed a humorless laugh, folding his arms at that. “We’ll have to face them eventually… Unless you wanna live the rest of your life in Iceland. Which, by the way, would not be a bad choice. Did you know they have one of the lowest crime rates in the world? Cops don’t even carry guns here!”

Sam rolled his eyes with a groan, burying his face in his hands. “Yeah, ok, just… Beam us home, will you, Scotty?”

“Your wish is my command, Sammich.” Gabriel answered and snapped his fingers.

  
  
  
  


They arrived in Sam’s bedroom at the bunker, the room looking exactly the way the hunter had left it. Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm his thundering nerves.  _ God, why is this so hard?  _ He thought to himself,  _ We weren’t even gone that long! What, 3 days? Dean’s left me behind for hunts way longer than that!  _ But then again, Dean never left with no traceable evidence and a note that stated he was going off on a possible suicide mission to kill one of the strongest beings in creation in an alternate dimension. 

“You want me to do the whole ‘pillar of salt thing’ if Dean gives you a rough time?” Gabriel asked from behind him, “I can do it, Dad showed me how.”   
Sam shushed him loudly, not wanting to alert anyone of their presence yet. “Shhh! No, geez, just… Just let me do the talking, ok?”

Gabriel shrugged, following faithfully behind as Sam walked cautiously into the war room. He could hear voices coming from down the hall, faint whispers that he recognized belonging to Mary. The sound of a gun cocking behind him was even less scary than what he heard next: Dean’s voice. 

“Who are you? Turn the hell around and put your hands up,” Dean’s gruff voice demanded, cold as stone. 

Sam swallowed thickly and obeyed, walking out of the shadows and into the light. He almost,  _ almost  _ gasped at the sight of his brother. Dean’s face was drawn tight with worry lines, his eyes exhausted. There were dark circles under them which clearly showed that he hadn’t slept well in days. He looked older to his brother, like he’d somehow grown in the three days they were apart. When he saw that it was Sam, his eyes widened and he tossed the gun down. 

“Sammy?” He asked in disbelief, voice rough as the cold stoicness fell from his face. 

“Dean,” Sam breathed, giving his brother no time to fit a word in, “I-I brought you this,” he said quickly, showing him the spear that was still wet with the blood of Michael. He set it down on the table in front of him, “it’s proof that Michael’s dead. I used the archangel blade and killed him.” 

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam was lost in his nerves now, desperate to delay the words of anger and rejection he was sure his brother would speak. Anything to give him just a little more time, just a second more to keep being his brother. “And this!” Sam added in a trembling voice, withdrawing the small bowl of the remaining rift ingredients from his jacket, “So that you can know the rift will never be opened again. W-We sealed it off, Gabriel and I. T-These are the last of the ingredients. We can burn them, make sure no one ever sees the spell again… It’s evidence, so that if you,” Sam swallowed thickly, “if you don’t want me around anymore, you’ll at least have the peace of mind that I was telling the truth.”

Dean didn’t speak for a moment, staring dumbfoundedly at Sam’s bowed head. His younger brother couldn’t even look at him, he was so ashamed. All of his words of anger and frustration died on his lips when he saw Sam like that. He was shaking, as if he was afraid of something.  _ Afraid of me,  _ Dean realized in distress, suddenly understanding everything. Sam was afraid that he’d send him away. Dean wanted to be at least a little bit angry, wanted to scold Sam for everything he’d done to them. He’d even planned a fucking speech out! In between the time he’d spent the last few days worrying himself sick, throwing up after his mother read the note Sam put on her bedside table with a quivering voice. He hadn’t slept a single minute since his little brother left, a horrorshow of possibilities parading through his mind at what could’ve happened to Sam. He and Cas spent every waking hour trying to track them down, frantically attempting to figure out why they couldn’t get a signal on Gabriel. Even Cas’s normally stoic face had paled at that, not knowing why he couldn’t detect his brother’s presence. On the third day, Dean had silently concluded to himself that Sam must’ve been dead. There was no other way. They would have heard something by now, if not from Sam or Gabriel, than from another supernatural being. The rift was closed, and both Cas and Jack searched the planet for another opening. There were none. Sam and Gabriel must have sealed the danger away for good, but sacrificed themselves in the process. He’d started grieving the moment the thought registered his mind. His Sammy was dead, gone forever… he didn’t even have a body to burn, a proper goodbye to say. 

But here Sam was, alive and seemingly well. He was  _ alive,  _ still breathing after saving them all from a destruction they didn’t even know was imminent. And he returned with the thought that Dean wouldn’t want him around anymore. 

Dean suddenly moved to close the small space between them, enveloping Sam in a fierce embrace. He had to know, had to make sure Sam was healthy and whole. 

The younger hunter tensed, shocked by the contact. He knew better than to think his brother wasn’t mad, but… his brain didn’t know what to do with itself, overwhelmed by results it was not expected. He expected Dean to rage and shout, not to  _ hug  _ him. Hesitantly embracing him back, Sam put his hands on his brother’s shoulders.

“I’m never gonna get rid of you, Sammy.” Dean said roughly against Sam’s neck, words spoken in a voice so low that Sam strained to hear it. “We thought you were dead.” 

Sam closed his eyes in relief at the words, leaning into his older brother’s embrace, breathing in the scent of home, the only one he’d ever known. “So, you’re not mad?” Sam asked apprehensively as they pulled away, daring to look Dean in the eyes.

The older hunter stared back at him, his thoughts clearly reflected in his expression.  _ You know I would’ve done the same thing if it was me,  _ his eyes said, a silent fact that they shared with each other. It was true- no matter how much it hurt losing the other, the brothers would never stop taking any opportunity they could to save the other. It just wasn’t in them. And despite the fact that they’d get furious at each other over this, they both knew they’d never change. It wasn’t betrayal like Sam had originally thought- it was love.

Dean huffed a small laugh of amazement, looking up at his younger brother, settling for six simple words. “You’re a piece of work, Winchester.” He muttered, his voice sounding so much like their father in that moment. Sometimes it freaked Sam out, how similar Dean was to John. The way he moved, the way he walked, some of the things he said… there were fleeting moments when Sam had to wonder if some small part of their father’s spirit stayed behind to reside in Dean.

“Sam, you’re alive!” A voice exclaimed from behind them, causing them both to turn around and see Mary standing in the doorway, a relieved smile on her face.

“Hey, Mom,” he smiled back, still getting to know this woman he’d never met before Dean brought her back into their lives.

Mary rushed down the three steps and embraced her youngest son, grasping him firmly by the shoulders. “What the hell were you thinking?” She demanded, staring up at him with scolding blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Sam apologized, “I had to. But we did it, we killed Michael. We sealed off the other world, nothing from there can ever hurt us.” 

Mary quirked the corner of her lips reluctantly, obviously happy and proud of her son but unsure of whether she should interrupt her reprimanding to let him know that. Before she could reply, however, her eyes flicked up and she caught sight of Gabriel, standing to the side and watching the reunion happily. 

She let go of Sam, moving swiftly towards the archangel.  _ Oh, god, she’s gonna kill him,  _ Sam thought worriedly, watching as she walked with an unreadable expression on her face. None of this was Gabe’s fault, he just had to sit them all down and explain that. “Mom, don’t, it’s not his-” Sam started to intervene, thinking the worst. Mary did have a great right hook. That’s why he was so surprised when she grabbed the angel in a tight hug, holding him close. 

Both the Winchester boys and Gabriel himself watched with wide eyes and shock as Mary embraced him. She took his face in her hands, staring at him with a look of pure emotion and maternal instinct. “Thank you,” she whispered fiercely, “as a mother, thank you for protecting my son.” 

Gabriel found himself speechless for a moment, mouth dry as he was confronted with such  _ profound  _ gratitude and respect. He didn’t know what to say, feeling like squirming under the woman’s gaze. He hardly felt worthy of such emotion- afterall, it was  _ Sam  _ who actually killed Michael, not the other way around. But maternal love was such an ancient one, such a primal feeling that Gabriel soon found himself connected to it in a way he never knew he could be.  _ Don’t be afraid, woman,  _ he spoke to her briefly through their thoughts, staring her straight in the eyes as he spoke,  _ your child will never not be loved and protected.  _

Mary smiled, not needing to speak. It was the greatest gift someone could give a mother, an unbreakable promise that their child would always be cared for, even when they were no longer around. 

Their moment was interrupted, however, when Dean’s eyes grew impossibly wide as he remembered. “Oh, shit, Cas!” He exclaimed, “He’s still gone with Jack! I gotta call them and let them know you’re here!” 

Sam furrowed his brows. “Gone? What, were they out searching for us?” He asked.

“No, not this time,” Dean answered, looking at Sam solemnly, “they’re looking for Lucifer.”


	19. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to figure out what went on while he was gone, and Jack shows a different side of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha! (Sorry in advance to anybody who likes Cas/Jack, if you can foreshadow anything, then you’ll know that is not the road this story is headed down!) but to be fair, this is not evil!Jack. Comments give Gabe hugs! Let me know what you think!

    “What?!” Sam nearly choked at the words, not quite believing Dean the first time. Gabriel’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he schooled his expression again, face deadpan.

    “Well, that’s a punch to the nuts. Where’s the bar?” He asked absently, heading for Dean’s whiskey stash, Sam only able to roll his eyes for a moment before going back to trying to wrap his brain around what Dean had just said.

    “The douchebag hitched a ride with us back,” Dean muttered angrily, “disappeared before we could notice and push him back. The only reason we even found out he made it here was Cas’s angel mojo. He sensed him the morning after you left.”

    Sam sputtered dumbly, not wanting to believe what was being said. They had just defeated the Other Michael, one of the most powerful beings in the universe(s), and now they had to deal with another one? None of this was supposed to happen, they were supposed to have left him there! He was supposed to be sealed away! A deadweight feeling of failure settled over the younger hunter, taunting him with the cruel irony of how they’d celebrated only moments ago.

    “Sammy, it’s not your fault man, ok? None of us could’ve known. We’ll take care of this like we do everything else.” Dean stated firmly, the look on Sam’s face being more obvious than the young hunter thought.

    Sam shook his head, sitting down in one of the chairs at the war room map table. “I thought we actually did it… I thought we could actually help.” He sighed.

    Dean balked at that, looking at his brother like he’d sprouted three heads. “Help?” He exclaimed, “Dude, you took out the guy who turned the other world into the dead rock it was, you saved our world from that! I’ll be damned if that’s not fucking help!”

    The corner of Sam’s lips quirked up slightly at that, the praise not failing to reach him, even now. Somehow, his older brother’s approval felt even better than Chuck’s, like what Dean thought of him mattered more than what God thought of him. That idea in itself tended to disturb Sam if he dwelled on it too much. “Have they at least been in contact with you?” He asked, hoping Cas hadn’t gone off with Jack on another one of his ‘solo’ missions.

    “Yeah,” Dean replied, flipping out his cellphone at the mention and scrolling through his inbox for messages, “he actually has. They’re in Stillwater right now, Cas thought he felt a signal from there.”

    “They’re not going to… take him on, are they?” Sam asked nervously, not even knowing how the two would manage to kill Lucifer if the archangel blade was here with them.

    “Hell no,” The older hunter answered, “I told him I’d beat his ass if they even tried. I just told them you’re back, they should be getting here-”

    “Sam, you’ve returned!” A voice cried from behind them, and the Winchesters turned to see Cas and Jack in the doorway.

    “Right about now.” Dean finished absently, relieved to see them back.

    Sam smiled at the young nephilim, who hugged him tightly with a grin. “I knew you’d make it back.” Jack said confidently, that sense of sureness in his voice never failing to make its appearance. The kid sounded so certain of everything he said, no matter what it was. Sometimes Sam didn’t know if it was just because he was young, or if he actually had some ability to see things they weren’t aware of.

    “Hello, Sam.” Cas said in his gravelly voice, a rare smile making its way onto his normally stoic face. The two of them never really needed words to express their emotions towards each other- contrary to what everyone else thought, it wasn’t just Cas and Dean who had the ‘profound bond’. Sam and him had their own sort of connection, one built of mutual respect and camaraderie love that had only gotten stronger over the years. The words ‘Hello, Sam’ were so much more than just a greeting. They both knew that.

“Hey, Cas.” Sam replied genuinely, giving him a warm smile. He knew he’d never really have to worry about Dean as long as the angel was around- it gave him a sense of comfort that was invaluable.

Castiel suddenly frowned, eyebrows knitting in concern. “Where is my brother?” He asked, obviously beginning to fear the worst.

“What up, Cassie?” Gabriel murmured, appearing next to Sam with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

“Is that my scotch?” Dean asked, pointedly annoyed.

“I’m glad you’re alright.” Cas said sincerely, always having an almost imperceptible soft spot for Gabriel. Anyone who knew him well would know that Gabe was the only one of his siblings he felt comfortable with, the only one he would trust.

But Sam had never seen Gabe express any type of affection towards his siblings aside from the memories he had of Lucifer before the fall. That’s why, when the young hunter felt Gabriel’s grace reach out and envelope Cas’s protectively, it nearly took his breath away. He’d never witnessed love between two angels before- it was only ever fighting and betrayal or emotionless soldiering. This was definitely something different, something beautiful.

Sam could see their similarities, not with his eyes but with his soul as he felt their grace hold each other. He could sense the sameness in some of their energy levels, the resemblance in the way their grace pulsated and gave off waves. He realized absently that that was probably their true forms physical similarities manifested in grace- in other words, Cas looked a lot like his older brother. Sam wanted to know what Cas looked like, so he could see for himself just what was the same, but for now he was content to feel the happiness and love being reciprocated between the two. Cas’s grace was chirping contentedly, nuzzling up against the archangel’s like an eager puppy. Had they always loved each other this much? Had he and Dean just been blind to it? Before the grace bond, Sam would’ve had no qualms believing that angels were incapable of feeling, that they didn’t have individual personalities or opinions or traits. Now, his eyes were opened to just how wrong that was.

“Me you too, little bro.” Gabe replied with a small smile, and Sam marveled at how they’d just expressed so much love without even moving an inch.

“So, what’d you find, Cas?” Dean asked, snatching the bottle from Gabriel’s hand and earning a scowl from the archangel.

“Lucifer is weak,” Cas said plainly, “he is looking for other angels to steal power from. The more grace he consumes, the stronger he becomes.”

Dean nodded contemplatively, raising an eyebrow at the angel. “Ok… So, why don’t we just take him out now? If he’s powered down, it should be easier, right?” He prompted.

Cas sighed, shaking his head dismissively. “It is not that simple,” he said, “there is a major risk. If Lucifer gets any of Jack’s grace, even the smallest amount, he’d become nearly unstoppable.”

Sam furrowed his brows in concern. “What are you talking about? Jack’s only half archangel.” He said.

“Nephilim grace is very potent,” Cas explained, “Jack has more power than we know. We have to keep him away from Lucifer at all costs.”

Dean opened his mouth to say how they’d never let Jack get taken in by the devil, no matter how enamoured the boy was with his father, when the door to the bunker burst open.

“It’s about bloody time, Samuel!” Rowena exclaimed, strolling into the room with a large book under her arm, “I was starting to think your brother would lose his wee head over ya. So, how was your boys little romantic getaway?” She peered at Gabriel seductively, causing the archangel to widen his eyes at the implication.

Sam huffed a humorless laugh, not quite knowing what to make of the witch. She’d been on both sides so to speak, trying to kill them and trying to save them. But as time passed, and when Sam witnessed her spare him at the hands of death, he realized she wasn’t an evil person. She wasn’t good by any means, but her soul wasn’t evil. Not by a long shot. “For the last time, it wasn’t a ‘romantic’ getaway.” He muttered, trying not to let his blushing face show that much.

“Sure, it wasn’t,” She drawled, patronizing, “my apologies, dear.”

Dean glared at the redhead, folding his arms as she set the gigantic book down on the table with a heavy thud. “Where have you been and what the hell is that?” He asked.

Rowena pouted sassily, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the table. “Now, is that any way to talk to the lass who went off to find an answer to your problems?” She scolded.

“What is this?” Jack asked curiously, resting his palm over the leather cover of the dusty, titleless book.

“This,” Rowena said proudly, “is a genuine guide to all of the devils weaknesses. From roofies to how to kill the bastard.”

Sam flipped the book open diligently while Dean looked on doubtfully. The pages were all written in enochian, but Sam only realized that after reading a paragraph in. He’d forgotten his ability to read the angelic script, so to him the words came as easily as English. They were lists, really, rather than sentences. Iron stakes, holy fire, positions and philosophies used throughout centuries to trap or incapacitate Lucifer. Most of the methods Sam had never even heard of, let alone tried.

“She’s right,” Sam breathed, “its real.”

Dean tried not to let his surprise show, looking up at the witch skeptically. “Rowena, where did you get this?” He demanded, slightly afraid to hear the answer. He knew his younger brother trusted the witch in a way, but Dean was still wary of her. He knew she’d kill to get what she wanted, but he didn’t care about that when they’d sent her out to find help after Sam and Gabriel went missing and Cas revealed that Lucifer had made it back. She’d been gone up until now, and they hadn’t heard a peep of her since.

“Oh, let’s just say a couple of amateurs in Germany owed me a favor and I took them up on it.” She answered ominously, lip curling in disgust as she thought of them. “They were horrible, absolutely dreadful witches. And they had the nerve to summon me? Ha! They’d be lucky to last two minutes in the coven.” She muttered, referring to her time spent with the infamous witches of Scotland hundreds of years ago.

“This book will help us kill my father?” Jack asked, his face twisting with a mix of emotions, none of them good. Sam felt his heart ache for the boy- he still didn’t understand.

“Jack-” Cas started, but the young boy cut him off.

“But I don’t even know him yet!” He exclaimed, eyes narrowed at Castiel.

“You don’t want to know him, he’s satan!” Dean barked, “The sooner you get that through your head, the better!”

Sam winced internally, grimacing at his older brother’s style of dealing with conflict: intimidation. It was all Dean knew, growing up with John Winchester as a parent, but it was far from the best way to deal with things. And the relationship between Jack and Dean had been rocky since the beginning, when the raw pain of Cas’s death caused him to lash out at the young boy. Sam knew his brother could never really hate anyone he’d just met, knew it was the pain and anger talking over his character. But that didn’t stop Jack and him from butting heads.

“You said you’d give us a chance to talk!” Jack shot back, and Gabriel couldn’t help but smirk at the surprised look on the older Winchester’s face. He wasn’t used to being challenged or pushed this far. Normally his rough exterior was enough to scare people off, but Jack wasn’t budging.

“Yeah, and you talked, end of story. You can’t-”

“It is NOT the end!” Jack shouted, and the lights of the bunker flickered on and off as his anger reverberated through the room. Everyone was silent, staring in a mixture of shock and worry at the two. “He is my father.” Jack said firmly, “I won’t let you kill him.”

A weight that was so heavy it was suffocating settled over the room. Sam swallowed thickly, feeling Gabriel’s grace hum in apprehension. The archangel had subconsciously stood protectively in front of Sam when the conflict started, smaller form ready to shield him. No one dared to speak until Cas raised his voice.

“Jack,” he said calmly, “we are your family. We’ve honored your mother’s wishes, we’ve protected you-”

“You have,” Jack said, looking earnestly at Castiel. Then he turned to Dean, and his gaze changed. He was apathetic, cold as he inched towards the older Winchester, “But you,” he murmured to Dean, eyes trained on the hunter’s, “you never liked me.” He whispered icily, in a tone that made Sam shiver. Even Cas looked disturbed as Jack stared Dean down, standing so they were eye to eye. “And you know what?” He asked flatly, leaning and whispering the words so that only Dean could hear them, “I’ve never liked you.”

Then there was a flap of wings, and the nephilim was gone. The room was still in shock and Dean stood frozen in place, a churning mixture of guilt and fear and anger raging within him.

“He won’t give Luci any grace,” Gabriel broke the silence in an attempt to calm them all, “he doesn’t trust him that much yet. I could feel it. We have time, but not a lot.”

Sam looked at his brother in concern, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You ok?” He asked, his firm grasp bringing Dean back to reality. Sam hadn’t heard the words Jack had spoken to Dean, but whatever they were, they must’ve been big. Not very many things could leave the Winchester speechless and breathless


	20. Inflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe have a pillow talk sesh while Dean does some self reflecting and makes a startling discovery. Everyone else waits for Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the fluffs and cuddling! Thank you so much for reading, and comment below if you want more Gabe/Sam starfish moments ;)

Sam couldn’t sleep that night, and it wasn’t just because of the nerves of Dean walking in and finding him sprawled out on his bed with Gabriel clinging to him like some platonic starfish. Physical contact had done a complete 180 in terms of how Sam viewed it since he bonded to Gabe- it was no longer a taboo ‘girly chick-flick moment’. It was just how they operated, how they best felt safe. He had no qualms about holding the smaller man close to his chest at night, nuzzling the golden hair and feeling a pang of sadness at not being able to bury his face in the trueform’s galactic lion mane. 

“Samoose, your soul is tossing and turning more than your ginormous self. Tell me what’s up so we can get some sleep.” Gabriel broke the quiet, his voice muffled and barely understandable as his face was pressed into Sam’s t-shirt.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? Jack is gone, he’s in danger. Aren’t you at least a little scared for him? He’s your nephew!” Sam muttered, his hand heavy on Gabe’s back. The archangel turned so that he could face Sam, reluctantly unburrowing his head from the crook of the hunter’s neck. 

“I know he is- he looks just like his daddy when he was that age.” Gabriel answered, a tinge of a happy/sad mixture in his voice. 

Sam sighed deeply, eyes flicking down to Gabriel as his curiosity peaked. “Does he really?” He whispered, voice thick with sleep.

Gabriel snorted in amusement. “You kidding me?” He asked, “Those two could’ve been twins if you lined ‘em up together. The eyes, ears, the nose… He even walks like Luci did when he was a kid. You know, that bow-leggy stance?” 

Sam couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped his lips, surprised at the frankness of the statement. Jack  _ did  _ have that gait, and he guessed before the fall, so did Lucifer.

“Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?” Sam mumured in a deep voice, slightly punch-drunk from tiredness and sleep, “Will I be 50 years old and share a bed with some girl on one side and you doing your best octopus impression on the other?”

They giggled together for a moment, picturing the scenario that was now very possible.

“In your dreams,” Gabriel scoffed quietly, “ _ I’ll  _ be the one in bed with a hot girl. If you try and butt in on our fun, I’ll smite your ass.” 

Sam chuckled, half heartedly punching Gabriel in the bicep, though it was an awkward movement when the angel lay sprawled on top of him. They sat in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, and Sam wondered if Lucifer was this kind at one point. It was a stark contrast to Cas’s denial that the boy was anything like his sire. His smile died on his lips when he thought of that. “What are we going to do about this?” He breathed into the dark, worry nibbling away at his brain, “He doesn’t know Lucifer’s true nature, and I’m afraid it’ll be too late when he finds out.” 

Gabriel sighed, looking at Sam with an unreadable expression. “He’s more on edge about this than you guys are because he can  _ see  _ what Lucifer was. When that kid looks at him, he sees what I used to.”

“Before he fell,” Sam breathed in realization, “he thinks that person’s still in there.” It all made sense now, why Jack had been so reluctant to let Dean lead him away from Lucifer without even giving him a chance. He was still holding out hope that the real Lucifer was alive somehow, uncorrupted.

The archangel cast his eyes downwards sadly, giving a slight nod against Sam’s chest. “I used to do that,” he admitted after a long pause, “for a while, actually. After I left heaven, I spent a long time looking for him. I’d pretend there was still something left… Even a fragment of the Lucifer I knew. I guess I was so desperate to have him back, I was willing to believe anything.”

Sam frowned at that, absentmindedly holding his angel closer. He hated the way Gabriel’s voice would be doused in sorrow whenever he talked about his older brother. The raw loss there was palpable, but there was surprisingly no anger. It had burned out long ago, and all that remained was grief and that heartsick sense of longing. He wanted nothing more than to take away the pain of losing a brother (he knew all too well how that felt). But now, Jack was in danger. And none of them knew how to stop it. 

“Don’t worry, Sammy,” Gabriel continued, “he’ll see reality soon enough. He won’t give him any grace, not this early in the game. He still needs to trust him, but the kid is smart- he’ll figure things out before it gets that far.” 

The young hunter sighed deeply, drowsiness beginning to take hold of his mind once more. He felt his worries and conscience begin to slip away into the embrace of sleep, which was probably the reason why the words “I love you” tumbled out of his mouth without his permission as he closed his eyes. The last thing Sam heard before drifting off was Gabe’s soft reply of, “I love you, too, kiddo.”

  
  
  
  


The next day when Jack still wasn’t back, Cas was done waiting and proposed a plan to go after him. 

“This is ridiculous,” the angel paced back and forth in the bunker, “he’s been gone an entire day and I still can’t find him.” 

They were all sitting around the war room table after breakfast- Charlie, Bobby, and the rest of the refugees had gone out to explore their new world. Mary, Cas, Dean, Sam, and Gabe sat nervously, debating on what to do. “So the lad doesn’t want to be found,” Rowena waved him off nonchalantly, “give the poor thing a bit of space.”

“Space?!” Cas exclaimed, eyes wide with worry, “He is out there trying to cultivate a relationship with evil incarnate! He doesn’t need  _ space,  _ he needs protection!” 

Mary sighed heavily, the worry lines in her face etched deeply. “Cas, as much as I hate to admit it, Lucifer is Jack’s father. He’s going to take an interest in him. Maybe letting him be on his own for a bit is the best thing to do- give him an opportunity to see for himself what Lucifer really is.” 

Dean frowned at her, surprised at his mother’s stance on this. Well, not just this… everything, really. Ever since Mary had gotten back from the dead, Dean and hers relationship had been a rocky one. They’d reconciled after she went to London, but he was beginning to realize that he didn’t know his mother as well as he thought he did. The memories he’d had of her, all beautiful and loving, were from when he was five years old. Yet he hung on to them for decades, the idea of ‘mom’ stuck in time. It only recently started to occur to him that alot of his memories were seen through rose colored glasses. His mother was a wonderful woman, but she was by no means the perfect angel Dean had subconsciously thought her to be. She drank and cursed more than John ever did, and Dean was upset and dismayed when he found her smoking a cigarette while she waited outside the gas station for her sons. She’d waved him off, saying she had always smoked. Dean didn’t remember that at all. 

“She has a point, Cassie,” Gabriel added, looking at his brother earnestly, “Jack may be naive, but you were right. He’s smart like his mother was. He’ll figure out what the right thing is and come back on his own.” 

Castiel sighed tiredly, sinking down into a chair in defeat. “Perhaps you’re right,” he muttered, “he’s bound to return sooner than later.”

Dean tried not to let his apprehension show at that. The words Jack had spoken to him before he left were still burned into his brain, haunting him and refusing to leave him alone. Perhaps the most disturbing thing about what he’d said, was that he was right: Dean  _ didn’t  _ like him. At the beginning, he’d made that perfectly clear. And the kid remembered that, and now he was using Dean’s own words against him. The icy detachment in his tone when he whispered to Dean was enough to fucking scare the hunter, enough to make him take a mental step back and wonder if Jack had always had that fire inside of him, if they’d just failed to see it. There was no empathy in his voice when he spoke, no trace of humanity or any other emotion.  _ You never liked me… I never liked you.  _ He’d said it like it was a well known fact, like he was reciting the fucking alphabet or something. He said it like… like  _ Lucifer. _

It was lie to say that the oldest winchester still hated Jack- over the months he’d grown to like the kid a lot, gotten closer to him and seen the joy and happiness he brought Cas. He’d genuinely regretted how he’d treated Jack at the beginning. But now, after being confronted with those words yesterday, Dean was forced to look in the mirror and really examine himself.  _ Did he really like Jack? Or did he just want to for the sake of those he loved?  _ And the more Dean searched within himself, the more disturbed he grew as he realized he didn’t have an answer to that. He’d never bonded to the kid, never really accepted him. He wanted to,  _ god,  _ did he want to! He saw how Sam and Cas and even Mom adored the kid, and he was glad that they were happy and content around him. He wanted to feel the same protectiveness and joy towards Jack that everyone else did. But that feeling was just never there. He’d waited for it, thought that in time it would change, but it never came. And now he knew the feeling was mutual. He could see it in his cold, powerful eyes as he stared at Dean. Jack was done vying for his affection and approval. The kid  _ didn’t _ like him, didn’t want anything to do with him. Truly, deeply, personally. And he felt the same. 

Fuck. 

He knew he’d never be able to tell anyone about this. Cas would surely hate him if he did. Obviously he’d fight for the kid, fight to keep him alive. But deep down, he knew it was only because he knew how much it would hurt those he loved to see Jack go. Dean would be numb, indifferent to it. Maybe he was a monster.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, his loud voice bringing him back to reality and shaking him from his thoughts. 

“What?” He asked dazedly, looking to Sam. 

They were all staring at him nervously. “Dude, you were in like, a trance for five minutes! Are you ok?” Sam asked. 

Dean licked his lips and nodded curtly, trying not to let them on. They could never know. “Yeah,” he said confidently, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, I was just thinking… Didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

They seemed to buy it, although Sam kept a watchful eye on his brother for the rest of the day. He knew Dean wasn’t himself since Jack had cornered him the other day- whatever the young boy and said left his older brother unsettled, and he made a mental note to remind Jack to apologize when he returned.

“Gabriel,” Sam called, not looking up from his book on angel lore. In addition to Rowena’s invaluable find, he was making sure to backup all the information they had with the books from the bunker, “can you manifest your warrior form in a way that everyone else can see?”

The archangel paused, tilting his head at Sam in confusion. “What? Why?” He asked, closing the laptop he had open as he was sitting perched on one of the bookshelves. 

“It says here that it’s, uh, better for you guys to stretch your wings.” Sam replied, leafing through the aged pages of the book, “I mean, I know you said your vessel is comfortable, but it wouldn’t hurt to let loose just a little once and awhile.” 

Gabe quirked the corner of his lips upward, honey eyes lighting up mischievously. “It would be pretty fun to scare the shit out of Deano…” He trailed off in thought, folding his arms as he pictured the scene in his head. 

“So, can you?” Sam asked, ignoring the admittedly awesome idea his angel had just voiced. It  _ would  _ be nice to get back at his older brother for all the childish pranks he played on him, remembering the sticky note incident. 

Gabriel bowed exaggeratedly, his hair flopping in his face. “Your wish is my command.” He replied in a mocking voice, “Tell Dean to be outside in 10 minutes.” He said, and with a snap of his fingers, he vanished. 

Sam rolled his eyes, hoping that whatever it was didn’t freak Dean out too much. He’d been on edge the entire day as it was- the only thing they were waiting for now was for Jack to come home.

  
  



	21. Skipper’s Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and the gang meet dragon Gabe for the first time, and Jack finally comes home... but not without consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Please comment below on what you think! Reviews are love! Also, sorry this was a short chapter, but trust me, it’s a necessary bridge.

To say the look on Dean’s face was priceless would be a huge understatement, Sam decided. Gabriel flew in from the north in all his glory, massive size and feathered wings flared for all to see. The form he’d manifested for the Winchester’s was actually pretty close to the magnificent wonder Sam had grown used to seeing. His colors were dimmed a bit, that aura of grace covered by his illusion so as not to blind the other humans. He looked about the same as he normally did, but everything about him was…  _ dulled.  _ His eyes didn’t glow nearly as brightly, and his spiraled horns were missing the gleam that seemed to always be present on them. Sam guessed that the grace and divinity was what made him all that more spectacular, and was a little sad that he had to take that away.

Mary stood back in fear, watching with an open mouth as Rowena was perched behind her. Cas seemed more concerned about Dean’s mental state, constantly staring at him with that scrutinizing look as though he was keeping the older WInchester’s eyes from melting, despite the fact that Gabriel had thoroughly covered his bases. 

The archangel landed in the field just a few meters outside the bunker, his talons and back legs making the earth quake as he touched down. His long neck reared up with a mighty roar, shaking the trees around them. His mouth opened wide for them all to see, glimmering rows of sharpened fangs bordered by his scaled snout. His nostrils flared, opening and closing with a smoky scent given off.  _ That’s something new _ , Sam thought absently, never knowing holy fire to have a particular smell.

Gabriel inched closer to the group on his hooked elbows, shoulder blades shifting beneath the smooth skin as he did so. Dean was torn between reaching for his gun and running for the hills- he knew this was Gabriel, knew this was their ally, but he just couldn’t contain his fear. The thing was  _ huge.  _ At least the size of an average airliner, maybe even bigger. Sam’s 6’4 frame would look like an ant sitting on the back of the behemoth. 

“Dean…” Mary said cautiously from the porch of the house, watching with wide eyes as her oldest son shakily approached the dragon. 

Dean forced his heart back down his throat, looking up at the face of the beast that was staring down at him. He could feel the power coming off it in waves, exuding dominance and force that was meant to make others who opposed it submit. But this was Sam’s protector, the one his little brother’s life was tied to. He needed to make peace with it, needed to find closure. So, fighting the primal instinct to run away from the large carnivore, he stepped closer ever so slowly, each move deliberate and taken at a snail’s pace. His shaking hand reached up carefully, palm hovering just above the edge of the scaly snout. Swallowing hard and clenching his jaw, he let himself make contact at last and rested his trembling palm against the snout. 

The skin felt like that of a snake, smooth and warm yet scaly and obviously reptilian. It brought vague memories of when Dean’s elementary school had visited the zoo, and the trainer had let them all pet the boa constrictor that visited the class. He exhaled sharply in continued awe, trying to wrap his brain around this moment. He was touching a divine dragon. An  _ Archangel Dragon.  _ How many other men besides Sammy in the history of existence had done that? He didn’t know. He didn’t really care. His main thoughts were centered around the fact that at any moment if he wanted to, the dragon could open its mouth and barbeque him to a crisp in a single breath.

The dragon made a low, pleased chirring sound from deep within it’s voice, making the skin beneath Dean’s hand vibrate slightly. The air around him smelled like smoke and wood shavings, a faint whiff of leather present as well. It was like God had taken the flames of the hottest burning fire and made them flesh, and the result was Gabriel. Cas’s gait and aura were always one of serenity and firmness, cool and sturdy. He’d known that for a while- even in Jimmy Novak’s vessel, the angel remained peaceful and was  _ not  _ easily riled. 

But Gabriel was fire. Gabriel was sparking energy, flames and heat that could burn even the gates of hell itself. 

The dragon made a strange clicking sound, pushing up against Dean’s hand one last time, before withdrawing and turning around in a lumbering fashion. It flapped it’s enormous wings twice, each beat sending a strong gust of wind towards them all, before rising into the air and flying away. Its long tail whipped behind it like a sail, a glimmering kite string attached to a celestial killer. 

Dean was still staring where the dragon stood a few moments ago, still processing what had happened, when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. Sam stood behind him, smiling at his older brother. “Thanks, Dean.” He said quietly, not needing to elaborate on what he was thanking him for. For accepting the new family member, for trusting Gabriel, for giving Sam his blessing, basically.

Dean scoffed, shrugging the hand off his shoulder and not looking at Sam. A quirk of a smile pulled up the corner of his lips, though, and Sam smiled even wider when he read his body language as if they were having a conversation.  _ You’re welcome, Sammy. I’ll always back you up.  _

__ “That was Gabriel?!” Mary exclaimed, walking down the two steps to the porch, still doubtful and wary. 

“You know it, mama.” Gabe said from behind her, happily back in his human vessel. 

Mary jumped in surprise and whirled around, staring at him with wide eyes. “You’re… You’re-”

“Amazing? Gorgeous? Sexiest archangel around? I’ll go with D, all of the above.” Gabriel sassed mischievously. 

Sam rolled his eyes, folding his arms at the impossible man.  _ “Dude, we’ve talked about this,”  _ he scolded telepathically,  _ “tune it down a notch with the ego.” _

__ Gabriel huffed, tilting his head back defiantly. “Sam says I should be more humble, but I don’t know why.” He muttered, looking mock-offended. 

“A bit of humility wouldn’t put a dent in your air-filled head,” Rowena snorted as she brushed past them, going back inside the bunker as storm clouds gathered on the horizon, “besides, I don’t know why you’re so proud. The dragons of Loch Garry were much more impressive.” She mused, tossing a strand of red hair behind her, “Tall, handsome… Not bad in bed, either.” 

Gabriel looked personally insulted, plopping down in a chair next to Sam. “Excuse me, those were  _ shifters _ , alright? Not bonafide. They were morons, too, killed each other off before the turn of the 19th century.” He said, before pointing to himself, “I’m the real deal.” 

“Right.” Rowena agreed patronizingly, eyes drawn in sarcasm. 

“Wait, Gabe, how do you know all that?” Sam asked, puzzled, “I mean, the dragons of Loch Garry. That was 400 years ago, weren’t you…”

“-In heaven?” Gabe finished for him, “No way. I tried to avoid it as much as possible. Nothing but fighting and bickering and Dad putting people in timeouts. I spent a while down here, Sammich.” 

Sam eyed him curiously, brows knitting together. Now, he was really interested. “How long is ‘a while’?” He ventured, unsure of the answer. He never really pondered how long Gabriel had been on earth before- all he knew was that he left as soon as his family started falling apart, and while he and Dean had once called it cowardly, Sam could at least now understand why he did it.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, smiling at his charge. “Let’s just say I was here when the first humans crossed into America through Chesapeake bay.” He murmured, looking pleased with himself. 

“Christ, you’re old.” Rowena muttered, earning a scowl as she got up from her chair to pour herself a drink of the most bitter Scottish whiskey that even Dean couldn’t handle. 

Sam balked, eyes widening. “You’ve been here for 20,000 years?!” He spluttered, a million questions running through his brain at once. 

“Very good, Sammy, you’re a real history whiz!” Gabe praised, “How’d you know that? Did you see the Nat Geo special? They’re on the right track, but the poor guys are severely lacking in the whole ‘social-familial-relationship’ category.” 

Sam still couldn’t believe his ears. He remembered reading in Stanford on early migration, back when the ice age was still ending and the Americas were still untouched.  _ 20,000 years.  _ Gabriel hadn’t been home in 20 millenia. Not even once. Sam suddenly felt his heart ache at the thought of the archangel all by himself, his siblings still preoccupied in heaven, and mankind not yet civilized enough to talk to. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the loneliness, the isolation that had to come with. “You’ve been here for 20,000 years?!” He exclaimed. 

Gabriel huffed, affronted. “Way to make a guy feel past his prime.” He chided, “I guess I have been. I never really kept track, kiddo. Weeks turned into months, which… turned into thousands of years, it gets complicated.”

Sam was still sitting in disbelief, everything he thought he knew about the archangel’s history completely blown away. “Where did you go? Did you just… Just hang out?” Sam stammered dumbly, “What did you do for 20,000 years?” 

Gabriel beamed at him. “First of all, that’s not true, Sam-a-lam. In reference to your previous statement, mankind was  _ way  _ civilized enough to talk to.” He corrected, and Sam frowned at him for reading his thoughts so sneakily. “I hung around for a while, and met a family who…” His voice trailed off and the smile fell from his face. He frowned slightly, and Sam tensed at the sadness those whiskey brown eyes filled up with. There was an awkward silence before Gabriel cleared his throat, looking at Sam steadily. “That’s a story for another time.” He said, and Sam decided not to push it. There was obviously something there, something that happened that stuck with Gabriel all these years. He could only wonder what it was

“I’ve found him!” Cas suddenly announced, storming into the bunker, “He’s at a motel in a small town called Lakesboro, 50 miles from here.” 

The flinch from Dean went unnoticed to everyone but Sam. The young hunter swallowed nervously, looking at the angel. “Cas, maybe we should let him come home on his own time. I mean, It’s great that we found him, but, can’t we just monitor him from here? You know, make sure he’s ok but still give him space?” 

Castiel looked at him incredulously, his face twisting into a betrayed grimace. “He’s been gone searching for  _ Lucifer  _ and not been home for over 24 hours, you still do not think it is wise to intervene? We need to go get him!” He exclaimed. 

“No need, pal.” A chillingly familiar voice came from behind them, and they all froze and spun around to see Jack standing smiling in the doorway, right next to a smug looking Lucifer. “Skipper’s back.”

 


	22. Loss of Our Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes a drastic choice that leaves the group shaken. Gabriel starts to tell his story about the first humans he met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an intense one! Hope you guys like it, and please leave your comments! (P.S. sorry for the cliffhanger on Gabe's story- you will see the full story in the next chapter, I promise!)

“Sam, Gabe!” Lucifer exclaimed happily, “congrats on taking out the remixed version of our pain in the ass brother! I’m sure it must feel great to know you saved the day for that dead rock.”

“Jack,” Castiel sputtered in disbelief and horror, “what have you done?”

The boy looked at him innocently, then looking back at Lucifer. “It’s alright, Castiel. He’s here to help.” He assured, watching them all carefully.

Sam’s stomach dropped at the mere sight of his tormentor, unable to look at the devil for much longer. “Help with what?” Dean growled, “‘Cause unless he’s gonna kill himself, there ain’t nothin’ you can do for us.” 

Lucifer pouted mockingly, folding his arms in a hurt fashion. “C’mon, now, Deano, don’t be like that! I might just have a solution to the little problem you guys are gonna have if you kill me.” 

“What problem?” Sam hissed, “As far as I know, that’d be doing the world a favor.” 

Lucifer smiled at him sadistically, blonde hair sticking up wildly from his tattered vessel. “I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Normally you think things through- you should’ve seen this coming when you kill me… If I’m dead, who’ll keep hell in, well, hell?” 

That silenced them all momentarily. They  _ hadn’t  _ thought of that. They had been so concerned on taking out Lucifer that they had forgotten about the horrors that would fester without him there to control them. Demons, monsters, witches would all be let loose without a dominant ruler to keep them in line. Even Gabriel’s grace was quiet at this. 

“We’ll find another way.” Cas bit, never stopping his glare at Lucifer. 

The devil snorted a laugh, tilting his head back in amusement. “Another way, hmm?” He sounded like a snake when he talked, his voice almost slithering, “Tell me, Cassie, who else do you know is powerful enough to keep the entire underworld in line? And if there  _ is  _ such a person, which there’s not, why haven’t they made their heroic appearance yet? Ran out of application forms?” 

“My father is willing to keep Hell from breaking loose on earth,” Jack intervened before any more conflict could rise, hoping that it would ease the Winchester’s tempers. 

Their eyes widened slightly and Dean clenched his jaw, watching Lucifer like he was about to explode. “Yeah, right.” He snapped, “Even if you were being serious, what would you want in return?” 

Lucifer saw the opportunity to seize what he wanted and gain his son’s approval at the same time- he had the boy wrapped around his finger at this point, and like a wolf on its prey, he was ready to pounce. “I want what any father would want,” he said in mock solemness, holding a hand over the spot where a heart would have been. Sam didn’t miss the way Cas flinched when Lucifer called himself Jack’s father. “I want my son. And when the time comes,” he sighed dramatically, “I want him to be the heir to my throne.”

“No way.” Sam said immediately, staring daggers at Lucifer, “That’ll never happen.”

“Sam is right.” Castiel agreed without any hesitation, “Leave now before we decide to end your pathetic life right here.” 

Lucifer tsked in dismay, crossing his feet casually. “Well, that’s a shame. I wonder how good human animal control is- what with the fact that my hellhounds will be running loose, and everything. As soon as I bite the dust, you better believe they’ll be hungry. And only I can keep make ‘em sit and stay.” 

Dean tried to hide his tensing at the mention of the demonic dogs, his trauma from being dragged into hell coming back to him. He wanted to tell Lucifer to screw off, wanted to get everyone to look for a way to keep hell shut without him, before Gabriel spoke up.

“He’s right.” Gabriel said miserably, staring at them all with hollow eyes. 

“What?” Sam exclaimed, looking at his angel in confusion. 

“There’s my little bro, always backing up his favorite sibling!” LUcifer said gleefully, smiling that hollow smile at Gabriel. 

“Only the creator of Hell, in this case,  _ him,”  _ Gabriel hissed venomously at his older brother, “can keep Hell in line. There’s no magic on earth that change that. When he dies, it’ll hold for maybe a week before the gates are blown open.”

A heavy, suffocating feeling of dread covered the room. It couldn’t be true- it just couldn’t be.

“I will do it.” Jack’s voice broke the deadly silence, causing them all to stare at the boy. “I’ll go with my father.” 

“No you will not,” Cas stated harshly, and it was only the hope that the adopted father could convince the boy that stopped them all from protesting vehemently. “You are not like him, Jack, that is not what you want, and that is  _ not  _ who you are.” 

“But it will save us!” Jack shot back, pointedly avoiding Dean’s gaze, “ _ I  _ can save us!” 

Sam shook his head firmly, wishing this was all just a bad dream. “ _ No way,  _ Jack, none of us will let you do that. We’ll find another way to keep earth safe, Alright? That’s what we do, there’s always another way.” 

“Can’t you idiots see there  _ is  _ no other way?” Lucifer interrupted angrily, staring at Gabriel in particular, “ _ I am  _ the ruler of Hell! I  _ created  _ it, and only me or someone with my grace,” he nodded towards Jack, “can hold down the fort! If you don’t believe me, ask my little bro, he knows!” 

Gabriel licked his lips in frustration, feeling helpless to stop what was unfolding before their eyes. There  _ was  _ no other being in the universe that could keep hell in line. And since Jack had Lucifer’s grace, he was the only suitable successor. It was a sickening truth.

“What, lost for words now?” Lucifer muttered in disdain, “it's not as fun, killing me, when you know you’ll also be crowning Jack the new king of Hell, is it?”

“Lucifer,” Gabriel said roughly, voice deeper than normal, “he’s not your bargaining chip, he’s your  _ son. _ ” 

“You’re right,” Lucifer said a half second after Gabriel finished speaking, “he  _ is my son. My  _ child,  _ my  _ grace made flesh. And I want him to be where he belongs.” 

“In Hell?!” Dean snapped angrily.

“With me.” Lucifer shot back, before reigning in his anger. He couldn’t warm up to his son if the kid saw him like this. He took a deep breath, resuming his gaze at them all once more. “I promise you that I will stay down there forever. I will never leave the throne, and I will not cause problems for you.” 

Sam scoffed at that, scowling at him. “You will never keep your word.” He said with vitriol, looking knowingly at the devil. 

Lucifer cocked his head at Sam’s confidence, before withdrawing his own angel blade and, before any of them could get hysterical, formed a small cut over his wrist. A sliver of grace fell from it, circling in his palm. “I make this covenant to you.” He said in enochian, his sickening grin present. 

“Your covenants lost their meaning a long time ago.” Gabriel replied back, the angelic language giving more of a hissing sound to his words. The meaning there was heavily implied: you betrayed us and your word means nothing.

Lucifer allowed a bit of fire to show in his eyes at his little brothers boldness, but didn’t say anything back. He had to keep the kid on his side.

“What’s he doing? What’s going on?!” Dean demanded, not understanding any of the sentences spoken in the occult language.

“He’s making a promise bound by grace.” Cas said in horror, watching as the grace swirled between Lucifer’s palms before he slammed them together, the bluish light sealing his hands symbolically before disappearing.

“So it is done.” He murmured in enochian, causing Cas to panic. 

“Jack, don’t do this!” He yelled at the boy, “You don’t have anything to prove! We are your family, don’t leave your family! Is torturing people what you want to do for the rest of your life? You aren’t a monster, Jack, you won’t want that!” 

Jack looked at Castiel with an expression of sadness, guilt, and naïveté that made Sam want to through up. “You will always be a father to me,” he said to Cas softly, and Sam felt the young boy’s grace reach out and embrace Castiel adoringly, “and I will always love you. But this is my responsibility. I bear the weight of my father’s crown.”

“Jack!” Sam exclaimed frantically, knowing now that Lucifer’s end of the promise was made, all he needed was the boy’s, “Listen to him, Jack, you don’t want this, we’ll find another way! Lucifer’s lying, it’s what he does!”

They all opened their mouths in horror to shout when Jack looked up to Lucifer, trusting eyes so locked on his. He grasped the devil’s hand. “So it is done.” He said in enochian, confirming the end of the deal. And before anyone could scream out for them to stop, the two vanished into thin air.

  
  


It was only fitting that a storm rolled in after Jack left. Dark clouds that promised rain drifted through the area, and by 8 o’clock that night, thunder and lightning were crashing loudly outside. The tin roof of the bunker patterned with the sound of raindrops hitting the old material, and the outdated window panes shuttered in their frames. 

Sam was sitting perched on the edge of his bed, unable to fall asleep if his life depended on it. Rowena and Mary had immediately gone to scour for help as soon as the two were gone, hoping to find some witch or prophet that knew of a way to reverse the deal. Deep down, Sam knew there were none. Dean had gone to his ‘man-cave’ with a bottle of whiskey early that evening, the door shut as no one dared to disturb him. 

Jack was gone.

The world was safe, and Lucifer was bound to Hell, but…

Jack was gone. 

It was the sound of quiet murmurs that drew Sam from his restless state, causing him to leave his room and pad silently down the hall to where he heard the noises originating. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating his shadow as he walked to the edge of the war room, where he saw Cas and Gabriel sitting in the dim light of the single naked bulb. 

“I’m so sorry, Cassie.” Gabe said softly, looking worriedly at his younger brother.

“I’ve failed.” Cas muttered brokenly, staring at the wooden table in front of him. “I promised Kelly that I would protect him. She named me his father. And I failed.”

“You didn’t fail,” Gabriel said quickly, wanting to dispel the seraph of the thought as quickly as possible, “there was nothing you or anyone else in the universe could’ve done. It wasn’t your fault.”

Castiel only shook his head dismally. “I should’ve seen the signs,” he said miserably, “should’ve noticed how his interest in Lucifer kept growing. I should’ve made sure he knew the monster he was before he could envision him in any other way.”

Gabriel sighed deeply, resigned to the fact that there was no getting through to his brother at this point. Castiel would continue to think he’d failed until Jack returned.  _ He never will, don’t be stupid,  _ the irritating voice of reason in his head commented.

Sam cleared his throat lightly, announcing his presence as he entered the war room. “Can’t sleep?” He asked them both, pulling up a chair and joining them at the map desk. 

Cas didn’t reply, his shoulders hunched in sadness. The young hunter wondered if the angel even registered his being there at all. Gabriel looked at the human apologetically, gesturing to his younger brother with a sorrowful shrug. “Mom and Rowena are on it, Cas, they’ll find something.” Sam tried to assure.

An awkward silence fell over them, with only the sound of thunder and rain shaking the bunker. 

Suddenly knowing what Jack would do, Sam forced a smile and looked at Gabriel. “Tell us the rest of your story, Gabe,” he said like the young boy would, always lightening the room no matter what the circumstances were, “tell us about the first humans you met.” 

A bittersweet smile came to Gabriel’s lips, and even though Cas’s shoulders remained tense and his gaze was averted, Sam could tell he was listening. “Sure thing, Sammy.” He replied.

 


	23. Gabe's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this brief little interlude is something I came up with while writing. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies, I wrote what I thought would enrich the story the best. The people I'm basing this off of are the solutreans (upper paleolithic age), or the tool making people who first entered North America through Chesepeake bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you guys think about this! Comments are loved!

“They were the first group of humans to cross into North America,” Gabriel began wistfully, remembering it like it was yesterday, “10 people. A mother, a father, their children, and their spouses. I happened to be hanging around near the banks of the river they needed to cross to get here. They were exhausted, obviously- just trekked through half of Canada, so I helped them get over the water.” 

“Wait, so you just… showed up? Didn’t that freak them out? As far as they knew, there were no other humans for thousands of miles!” Sam exclaimed. 

Gabe tilted his head slightly in admission. “They were a little scared at first,” he conceded, “I didn’t look like anything they’d ever seen before. Pale skin and lighter hair hadn’t entered the gene pool yet, so I was somewhat of an anomaly. But after I told them what I was, they were cool with it… humans used to be way more spiritual than they are now, so they weren’t too shocked to know I was from ‘the great above’.” Gabriel air quoted the phrase, “I think they were more surprised that I had  _ helped _ them than anything… anyway, I stuck around while they searched for a place to settle down. You see, back then, all kinds of weird stuff crawled around here. Bears that could stand up even taller than you, samsquatch, with paws the size of dinner plates, giant ground sloths with claws that could put a werewolf to shame, and saber tooth tigers that could smell blood from miles away. They asked me to help protect them from these dangers, and I was bored, so I agreed. 

We walked for a few days, further south until we avoided most of the northern winds. Earth was a lot colder, back then, you had to move further south to avoid the deadly winters. Eventually, they found a decent sized cave, a place that the father approved of. Not  _ nearly _ as cool as my Gabe Cave back in Iceland, but it was a paradise to them. Kept them safe, out of the wind… they invited me to stay with them, so I did. I was tired of being by myself, and wanted some action back.

The one daughter, Ina, was pregnant. Had been for a while, and when the baby came, her husband asked me to make sure it was born safely. I liked the guy, and Ina was the couples oldest daughter, so it was a no brainer for me. She had a son, and they… they named him after me.” A wistful smile came to Gabriel’s face, remembering the joy in the family’s eyes as they beheld the newborn, cooing and holding Gabriel as a sign of their thanks. The happiness in those faces never left the archangel- and it was the first time he came into contact with humans after the fall. He was scared at first, remembering Adam and Eve and how pure they were. The angels  _ loved  _ them so much. He was afraid to see what had become of their most beloved creatures that they’d been entrusted to look after, afraid that their souls would have dimmed and they would have lost the love and resilience that made them the most spectacular things in the universe. 

But they hadn’t- if anything, their souls had grown brighter. There were blemishes and scars were Adam and Eve’s were flawless, but somehow, this made them even more beautiful to Gabriel. And ‘relief’ couldn’t even begin to describe the joy he felt at seeing that humans were ok. That the angels hadn’t ruined the most extraordinary thing their father had created. 

“What were the other kids names?” Sam asked suddenly, bringing Gabe from his thoughts. 

The archangel smiled in reminiscence. “Aed, the youngest daughter, and Sitet, he was their middle child. Ina and Sitet had spouses, obviously the father of Ina’s child, and Sitet had his wife, Na. Aed didn’t have a husband, at least, not when I found them… I never asked, but I could tell she’d lost someone along the way. Death was way more common back then, though, people normally didn’t live past 40. But Aed was strong, helped her parents hunt and made coats out of deerskin.” The way Gabriel’s eyes lit up when he spoke of Aed gave away everything Sam needed to know. 

“What did she look like?” Sam blurted out suddenly, the random question coming to mind. All they had left were skulls and fragments of bone to study of their ancestors- he’d always wondered what prehistoric people really looked like. 

Gabriel snorted at that, slightly amused. “Like you, Sammy. They were modern humans, just with different features- Copper skin, black straight hair, dark features. But Aed was different than the rest. She had gray eyes when everyone else had brown, and they used to have this… This great little story about how, when a baby was born, the spirits would give the child a tiny piece of the stars, and that would determine what their eye color would be. Deep brown eyes were associated with fertile soil, life, a place for things to thrive. And her mother said that grey was the color of flint, the stone they made their weapons from, so it must've meant that Aed was born to fight. 

I tried to spread my company out evenly with them, but I think I spent the most time with her. We used to take walks through the forest, and she’d ask me questions for hours.  _ Why does the water from the mountains taste sweet when the water from the beach is poison, why does the moon disappear when the sun rises, how big is the word, how many angels are there,  _ that kind of stuff. She’d tell me about her childhood, when she was born in a hollowed tree near the tundra, how the first animal she saw was a wooly mammoth, the things she liked and the things she hated. I used to listen to her stories and answer every question she asked, and I gotta admit, there was nothing like watching her smile when I told her something new… But one day, she asked me something that I didn’t know, the first question I couldn’t answer. She asked me why heaven abandoned her and her family.” 

Gabriel immediately flashed back to that moment. The forest was green and humming with life, birds chirping and leaves crunching beneath their feet as they walked. The winter was melting into spring, and the deer had begun to return from the coast. Mammoths trudged around with their calves, and birds started to fly back from their long migration. Aed loved to walk in the spring, always proclaiming how happy she was when 'the white sand that fell turned to sweet water, and the sun returned from sleep'. She was older now, having grown into a young woman more so than a girl She was wearing her elkskin cloak, her spear in one hand and his in the other. They were talking about the salmon, wondering aloud when they'd begin to swim back upstream, when she suddenly stopped. Her gray eyes shimmered and she turned to him, looking at him with innocence and sorrow. 

_ “Why did you leave us?” She asked quietly, and Gabriel knew she was talking about the angels and heaven, “Did we anger the spirits? Were we bad?” _

_ "What?" He asked, trying to wrap his mind around what exactly she was asking him.  _

_ Aed kicked at a pebble beneath her mokasin clad feet, staring at the earth in... Shame? "Mother and Father said that the earth used to always be warm and beautiful. They said there were more spirits like you, sent from the heavens to look after us and be with us. They said we were together for a long time, but one day... You all left. And the earth turned cold and we started to die." _

_ The wind had been knocked clear out of Gabriel’s lungs at that, and for the first time in his existence, he felt the emotion known as pain. He’d felt sorrow when Lucifer left, anger at his family for fighting, worry when Adam and Eve fell… But he’d never known pain until that moment. “You were not bad,” he managed to answer softly after a moment, “you did not anger the spirits.”  _

_ She furrowed her brows in confusion, black hair falling in wispy strands that framed her face. “Then why did you leave us?” She questioned again.  _

_ Gabriel paused for a second, swallowing his hurt as he stared into her eyes. “We did not leave you,” he said roughly, “at least, we didn't want to. You were stolen from us. My brother was angry, and he took you from us and the sunlight and made the earth cold. He thought that if he did this, you would not survive, and that we would forget about you.” _

_ A single tear rolled down Aed’s cheek, like a child being told that their parents had rejected them. “Did it work?" She whispered sadly, "Did you forget about us?”  _

_ Gabriel shook his head fiercely, gripping her shoulders firmly yet gently. “No,” he said fervently, “I never forgot you. I never stopped thinking about you.” _

_ Aed touched a finger to his cheek, wiping a way a tear that he didn’t even know he’d cried. She examined it, showing the drop to him. “Ina says that when the sky does this,” she said, gesturing to the tear, “it is the creator mourning us… Is this true? Does he mourn us?” _

_ Gabriel nodded brokenly, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Yes.” He croaked, “Yes, of course he mourns you. You are his children. A parent will always mourn their child.”  _

_ Aed looked away, an unreadable expression crossing her face. There was a silence between them for a few minutes, only the sound of the wind in the trees and the singing birds filling the air. She looked back at Gabriel, a smile of hope on her lips. “But we are not dead,” she said lightly, “will you tell him that? When you cross into the heavens again? Will you tell him we are still alive?” _

_ Gabriel didn’t have the heart to let her know that he didn’t think he could go back, that heaven was less of a paradise and more of a war zone, but a part of himself made a promise that he would, if it took him to the ends of the universe, personally tell their father what Aed had said. “I promise I will.” He answered, and before he could say anything else, the girl pressed her lips to his, sealing them in a kiss.  _

_ He closed his eyes briefly, feeling his grace swirl in ways it never had before. He kissed her back lovingly, and they held each other in the forest. It was the first time Gabriel had ever made love to a human, and it was passion and fire and everything he didn’t think was possible. It was love in a world cursed to hate. _

“What happened to them?” Sam’s voice jolted Gabriel from his flashback, causing him to flinch as he blinked back into reality. They were still in the bunker, still sitting at the table as the storm raged outside. 

It took a moment for Sam’s words to register, but when they did, the angel’s honey colored eyes turned dark and sad. “I went hunting with Sitet and his father,” he said lowly, that haunting day never leaving him, “we tracked a herd of buffalo… A glacier broke off, melted, and there was a flood. We were swept away… I couldn’t save them. I went back to the cave, but it was all gone. Everyone was gone.”  _ Aed was gone. _

Sam swallowed thickly, looking at his angel who appeared to be lost in the grief-filled memory. Gabriel tried not to think about that horrible time in his life, but every now and then, he couldn't help but recall it. The sound of rushing water, the crunching of trees as they were uprooted, and the look of terror that Sitet and his father donned right before they were engulfed by the rushing waters. It happened so quickly that he didn't even have a chance to say goodbye to them, to mojo himself back to the camp and warm Ina and the rest of them. Looking back on it now, he realized it wouldn't have mattered. They were long lost before the waves ever reached Sitet and his father. 

“You never told us any of this, brother.” Cas said softly, an apologetic look on his face. He didn't think his brother ever had any real depth relationship with humans until Sam- the fact that he had was news to the seraph.

“I’m sorry, Gabe,” Sam said genuinely, “you gave them a good life.” He reached out tentatively with his soul, and carressed the grace that had curled up into a ball of sorrow. He felt slightly relieved when Gabriel’s grace unfurled a little, nudging him back. 

“No,” Gabriel said softly, thinking back to the first humans he met, “ _ they _ gave  _ me _ life… And then, they gave me you.” He allowed a small smile to turn up the corner of his lips, “99% of all humans in North America can trace some bit of their DNA back to them. They paved the way for you and everyone else to exist.”

Sam smiled back, eyes warm as he and Cas looked at Gabriel. “Then they never really died, did they?” The young hunter said quietly. 

Gabriel couldn’t help the twinkle that reached his eyes when he looked at Sam. “I guess not, Sammich.”

A calm quiet descended on the war room, but this time, it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Despite the uncertainty and worry they all had about Jack, Sam allowed himself to think about how maybe humans weren’t that fucked, after all… Just a thought.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	24. Life’s Too Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes an important revelation with Gabriel’s help, and Cas is still devastated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, guys, this is a big one! I did this for all the Destiel lovers out there- I’ve been wanting to incorporate a bit of destiel into the background of the story (the main focus still being our favorite Sam and Gabe, of course) let me know what you think! Comments motivate me to update!

Gabriel had never told anyone about his first family before. As soon as he finished speaking, he felt oddly exposed, like he was walking around with no clothes on. It’d never even crossed his mind to share his story with anybody before, but as soon as Sam asked for it, the words poured out of him like an open book. He’d never forgotten about Aed, but the pain of losing her had dulled over time to a bearable ache. But Sammy made a point that Gabe had never even considered- a part of Aed and her family, small as it may be, lived in almost everyone still walking around today. It brought him more comfort than he thought it would.

Cas still seemed devastated, of course, and for a few moments after Gabriel’s story, they all just sat there in the dim lighting. Rain was continuing to pelt the windows, and the storm howled on outside. 

“He felt like he needed to prove himself.” Cas spoke up roughly after a long silence, “I didn’t reassure him enough.”

Sam sighed deeply, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Listen, man, there was nothing you could’ve said that would have changed his mind. He’s young, kids his age  _ always  _ feel like they have something to prove, even when they don’t. It’s just one of those mistakes that everybody makes.”

“But he will pay for it with his life!” Cas exclaimed, tears finally making their appearance, “He is a child, Sam, not even that!  _ You and Dean  _ are children to me, Jack has barely even existed! And now he is doomed to spend the rest of his time in Hell, all because I couldn’t save him from Lucifer’s manipulation.”

“Cassie, don’t make this about you not being good enough.” Gabriel said firmly, leaving no room for argument, “Young or not, Jack is smart. The kid listened and knew what you were saying, but he chose to do something different… And don’t underestimate his power, he’s a strong boy. Sooner or later, he’s going to see Luci for what he is, and I have a feeling that he just might show his daddy up in terms of who’s more powerful.”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly, cocking his head at Gabe. “Are you serious?” He breathed, “More powerful than Lucifer?”

Cas scoffed bitterly, shaking his head. “What makes you say that?” He asked miserably.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “I don’t know if you guys have considered this yet, but the clock is ticking on my big bro’s power. Jack is more  _ driven _ than him,  _ younger  _ than him… And where Lucifer is past his prime, Jack’s only baby, really. He’s going to _ grow up. _ While Lucifer is still on top, it’s only a matter of time before Jack will get to be too much for him. A nephilim’s grace is way stronger than any ordinary angel’s, an if that Nephilim’s father is the firstborn archangel of heaven? The kid’s gonna be  _ literally  _ moving mountains.”

Sam paused, having to stop and think about that. He hadn’t even thought about what would happen as Jack grew. He was already so powerful, they never put much time into wondering how that would change as the young boy became a man. Maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ Jack could get away from his father with enough strength and motivation. And, if Rowena and mom found anything, they could find someone or something to take Lucifer’s place and rescue Jack from having to take the throne of Hell. Of course, that was best case scenario. Worst case would be… Sam couldn’t even bring himself to think about it. He wouldn’t allow himself to.

“It’s late.” Castiel suddenly said, standing up from the table, “I am going to bed.”

Sam didn’t even mention that angels didn’t need to sleep, watching Cas slink away into the darkness of the hall. Gabriel sighed deeply, watching sadly as his little brother trudged away, before a determined look set itself in his face. He turned to Sam, nudging the hunter’s soul with his grace comfortingly. “Go to sleep, Sammich, I’ll be in soon. I have to talk to someone first.” He said.

The young Winchester supposed that he should be worried and ask what exactly that meant, but he was too drained, both emotionally and physically, to care. He absentmindedly hugged his angel goodnight before retreating to their bedroom and curling up beneath the blankets. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe.

* * *

  
  


“Hey.” Gabriel said flatly, startling Dean and causing him to jump out of his chair and spill some of the whiskey he was holding in the process.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean cursed loudly under his breath, glaring at Gabriel as he got back to his feet. “What the hell, don’t you guys ever knock?”

Thunder rumbled outside and the archangel shrugged, intense eyes never leaving the hunter, who was beginning to squirm under the piercing gaze of his stare. “What do you want?” Dean asked irritatedly, shoving the bottle back on the shelf as he resumed his spot on the recliner near his bed. 

“Why are you sitting here getting drunk when my little bro needs you?” Gabriel demanded, figuring it would be best to not beat around the bush and just come right out with it. He’d been meaning to talk to Dean for a while, and he didn’t want to wait anymore. 

The older hunter raised an eyebrow at him, putting his feet up on the dresser. “What do you mean?” He asked, confused. 

Gabriel shook his head in a mix of frustration and amusement. “You really don’t get it, do you?” He asked in disbelief, wondering how Dean could be so oblivious, so stubborn. 

“Cut the small talk and just tell me what you mean!” Dean snapped in annoyance.

“I know you love him.”

Silence. The room was quiet aside from the wind howling outside, and Dean’s shoulders tensed, turning around in his seat to look at the archangel. He quickly hid the flash of panic that dashed across his face for a fraction of a second, swallowing thickly and looking away. “What?” He asked roughly. 

“You’re in love with Cas.” Gabriel repeated, but not accusingly. He said it like it was a fact of life, like saying that the sky was blue or the earth was round. And Dean hated it. 

He’d known for a while that he had feelings for Cas. For the first few years, it scared the shit out of him. Hell, it still did. But for the first few years, he was able to ignore it, able to pretend that if he kept busy, those thoughts and feelings would go away. But they didn’t- they only grew stronger and stronger, to the point where Dean had to start acting mean to Cas just to avoid the warmth and intensity that would come with simply looking at him or spending time with him. He felt awful about it, felt horrible and guilty about treating Cas that way, but he couldn’t handle coming face to face with the feelings that threatened his very livelihood, threatened to turn everything he ever knew upside down. 

He was in love with a man. No, not even a man, not even a  _ human.  _ He was in love with an angel. 

It was everything that Dean Winchester was supposed to  _ not  _ feel. He was supposed to be the lady killer, the smooth guy at bars, the badass hunter that took out any supernatural being in sight. He wasn't gay, he knew that for a fact. He wasn’t homophobic or anything, he just didn’t have those feelings for men. He still took the occasional girl home to a motel room sometimes- but despite all of this, he still  _ loved Cas.  _ He couldn’t fucking explain it. And to make everything worse, he could never tell anyone about it. Cas was practically like a brother to them, and if Dean himself was freaked out by it, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what everyone else would think. And he knew Cas didn’t feel the same way towards him- how could he after everything Dean put him through? It hurt him every single day to wake up and know that the only person he ever truly loved, the only person he ever would love, could never love him back. It was his darkest secret, his most painful secret, and his  _ truest  _ secret.

And Gabriel had just come right out and fucking said it. 

“I’m an angel, Dean, don’t even try to lie to me.” Gabriel cut him off before he could say anything. 

Dean wanted to tell him to fuck off, wanted to beat him up and curse and punch something, but instead, all he did was deflate and sink further into his chair. “What does it matter?” He asked hoarsely, taking another swig from the near empty bottle, “What does anything matter? It doesn’t make a difference what the hell I feel. He doesn’t want me, and I can’t bring his son back.” 

Gabriel leaned against the doorway post, folding his arms contemplatively. “You’re wrong, you know.” He said firmly.

Dean huffed a broken laugh, tossing the now empty bottle to the floor. “You think I can get the kid outta hell? You’re nuts if you really believe I could-”

“Not about that, about Cas!” Gabriel said frustratedly, “He  _ does  _ want you. And right now, he needs you.”

Dean stared at him sadly, devoid of the fighting energy he normally would have. “You don’t know what he wants.” He scoffed bitterly. 

“Yes, I do,” Gabe insisted, irritation growing, “I’m his older brother, I can tell.”

Dean scowled at him, eyes narrowing as he threw his arms up in exasperation. “I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation right now!” He snapped, “Why the hell am I telling you about-”

“He thinks you don’t want him.” Gabriel interrupted, and at those words, all the anger left Dean’s body. He felt guilt and sadness settle like rocks in the pit of his stomach. Cas thought… thought he didn’t want him? He knew Cas had reason to be mad at him, had plenty of reasons to be distant from him- after all, the angel had always gone on about their ‘profound bond’ and Dean had kept pushing him away because he didn’t want to confront his own feelings. But did Cas  _ really _ think Dean didn’t care? The person who mattered most to him, who he loved, thought he didn’t  _ want him?  _

“He’s in his room right now, devastated over Jack, and he thinks he’s all alone.” Gabriel said softly, before making eye contact with Dean. “Life is too short to do this to yourselves,” the archangel said quietly, “go and be with him. Let him know. He loves you. And he  _ deserves _ to know.”

Dean bit his lip and tried to ignore the pounding in his chest. Cas deserved the whole fucking universe, deserved every good thing in life. Maybe Dean couldn’t give him that, but he could give him the knowledge that he was loved. He could give him the truth. And as much as it scared Dean to do it, he knew that anything less would be denying Cas what he needed, would be hurting the angel. And that just wouldn’t do. So, pushing through the panic that was clawing its way up his throat and forcing his body to stop trembling, he got to his feet and marched down the hall to Cas’s room. He wouldn’t leave the angel alone again. He couldn’t.

* * *

 

Gabe held Sam extra close that night, allowing his wings to manifest and wrap protectively around them both. He hoped Dean and his little brother could reconcile together, because now, he couldn’t even imagine being separated from Sam.


	25. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas have their ‘come to Chuck’ moment and we get a peek at what’s up with Jack. Sam and Gabe discuss things over cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello wonderful readers! I hope you like this chapter- thank you so much for all of your comments and kudos- they motivate me to update more and continue the story! Announcement: I will be unable to update for a few weeks (should be back up to things in early August) as I will be on vacation. Please read and review!

_ Meanwhile, in the throneroom of Hell… _

 

“Glorious be the day when Hell shall reign, for surely the old power of the ancestors runs through me, and the blood of ancient heaven fortifies my veins in every battle I shall fight…” Jack mouths the words of the book silently, absentmindedly skimming the page with his fingertips. He thought that reading would distract him from the pain of missing Castiel and his family, but he was wrong. 

The throne room was ornately decorated, every possible shade of red and black adorning the walls and floor. It looked like an old castle that Jack had seen in the movie ‘the princess bride’, one of the hundreds he’d taken to watching since he had been born. The boy was seated on a throne made of gold and studded with rubies, a plain yet shiny black obsidian crown placed atop his head. Since he’d arrived in Hell, his father had done nothing but fuss over him, showering him with flattery and words of praise that Jack didn’t even think he deserved. He hadn’t seen anything horrible when he’d entered Hell, hadn’t heard any terrifying screams or witnessed any of the awful things that the others had warned him about. It was oddly quiet, save for the crackling of the burning torches mounted on the walls. 

“Look at  _ this guy _ , that crown was  _ made  _ for you, buddy! You look fantastic!” Lucifer had exclaimed shortly after they arrived together, clasping his hands together proudly when the beautiful demon woman delicately placed the garment on his head. “You and I are gonna be the best there ever were, Jack, we’re gonna rule this place together.” He’d said confidently, causing Jack to squirm under his gaze. 

“I’m not sure if I have enough…  _ experience  _ to rule, yet, Father.” Jack had said quietly, unsure of himself. He had no idea what it took to rule a kingdom- he was only a couple of months old!

Lucifer had raised an eyebrow at him, smile still in place. “What’re you talking about, you’ll be a natural, kiddo! But, just in case you wanna dust up on the ol’ law and rules, take this.” He’d handed Jack the book that he was reading now. 

‘The First Book Of Rebirth’, it was called. Jack wasn’t really sure what it was, but in his opinion, it seemed quite similar to the ‘bible’ Sam and Dean had shown him months ago, only about Hell instead of earth and Lucifer instead of God. He sighed deeply, resting his face in his hands as he leaned back in his chair. He was conflicted inside, a raging sea of thoughts and emotions threatening to sweep him under. He did this to make things right, to save his family… so why did it feel like he was hurting them?

“My prince,” a voice jolted him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the demon woman he recognized from earlier bowing deeply before him, “I’ve been sent to ask if there is anything you need, food, wine?” 

Jack thought carefully for a moment, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “But I’m under 21, alcohol consumption is illegal.” He frowned. 

The demon woman laughed sweetly, but there was something else masked beneath her chuckling- it looked like sadness, remorse, almost, and it put Jack on edge. “You are every bit as precious as they say, aren’t you?” She said quietly, but it sounded more like a lamentation than a compliment. “Well, if you’re comfortable, I’d best get back, my lord.” She turned on her heel to leave, when Jack stopped her. 

“Wait!” He said, “If it’s possible, can I see Castiel? And, Sam and Dean?” 

The demon paused, her eyes downcast nervously. “I’m afraid your father has forbidden you to leave, but, I am allowed to give you  _ some  _ leeway.” She drawled softly, before pulling a small glass bowl seemingly out of nowhere. She walked the three steps up to the throne, gently handing the bowl to Jack. “It is called the ‘Eyes of The Ram’, an ancient looking glass. It will allow you to see whoever you wish without interacting with them. I’m not technically supposed to handle objects like this, but it’s been ages since any demon or other creature used it. I don’t think it’ll be missed too much.” 

Jack smiled gratefully. “Thank you… What is your name?”

“Malory.” She answered, smiling back at him as she tossed a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder before turning to leave. “If you need anything else, my prince, please don’t hesitate to ask.” 

He merely nodded as she disappeared, examining the bowl in his hands. He stared at the smooth glass, running his fingertips over it’s cool surface. His eyes glowed amber-gold before whispering; “Show me Sam and Dean.”

* * *

  
  


Castiel was sitting silently in his room, perched on the edge of the bed that he never slept in. The absence of Jack’s chatter and his dvd player were neverending reminders of his failure. He had failed. As an angel, as a friend… as a father. Guilt churned his insides together as he remembered Kelly Kline, her kindness and the trust she put in him to protect her son. And now, Jack was gone, taken by Lucifer to horrible world he’d never understand. 

“Cas?”

His head snapped up at the words, and he saw Dean standing in the doorway, his face only dimly lit by the old bedside lamp. 

“Dean? What is it?” Cas frowned in confusion and concern as the man walked in. 

Dean sighed the way he did when Sam did something wrong, so fear started to build in the pit of Cas’ stomach.  _ It is no less than what you deserve,  _ he thought miserably,  _ perhaps he has come to voice his disappointment in you. At least that much remains the same.  _

__ “I just, uh…” Dean trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “Came to see if you were ok.” 

Cas just stared at him.

The older hunter shook his head in embarrassment, closing his eyes briefly. “Right- sorry. Stupid question. I mean, do you need anything?” He asked.  _ Damn, why is this so hard?  _ He cursed himself in his mind.  _ Get it together, Winchester. _

“Yes,” Cas said gravelly, “I need to be a better father, a better… everything.” 

Dean pursed his lips in disagreement, lines at the corners of his eyes becoming more apparent. “Don’t you dare do that to yourself, Cas, this wasn’t your fault,” he said firmly, sitting down on the bed next to him, “you and I both know that.”

“But it was!” Castiel cried abruptly, and his outburst shocked the both of them. Castiel rarely raised his voice, rarely lost control of his emotions. In fact, if you hadn’t known the angel for as long as the Winchesters did, you would be inclined to believe he didn’t  _ have  _ emotions. They were silent for a moment before the angel scoffed. “Besides,” he muttered bitterly, “you of all people should know too well how I mess things up. Afterall, you are keen on pointing out my misgivings.”

Dean felt a stab of guilt at that, and it hurt him more than he thought it would. It was true- whenever Cas made a mistake in the past, Dean was always the first one to berate him for it. He knew it was only 30% because he was actually upset about the action, and 70% that anger was the only safe emotion he could express around Cas. Anything else would lead him dangerously close to outing himself and how he felt. And in his own stupid vanity, trying to save face, he hurt his best friend. His love.

“You’re right.” Dean admitted defeatedly, the gravity of his selfishness catching up with him. This caused Cas to look up in surprise. The hunter said it so softly, so unlike his usual boisterous, bad-ass self. So… ashamed? Wasn’t Dean supposed to be arguing with him? Wasn’t he supposed to be protesting how that wasn’t true? “You’re right, I jump on you way too much,” he continued brokenly, “you save Sammy and me a million times and how do I repay you? By kicking you out and acting like a jerk. Maybe that’s why shit always happens to us. Maybe it’s karma trying to even out the score, ‘cause for some reason, I got all this stuff that I don’t deserve. I don’t deserve you, or Sam, or mom, or anyone… even Jack could see that.”

The sound of a pin dropping could be heard in the pause in between. Cas was staring at Dean in shock, but the older hunter didn’t even notice. He was too entrenched in his own thoughts and realizations. “Maybe,” he huffed in a voice so low it was almost imperceptible, “maybe this is all just one huge, giant mistake… Maybe Chuck messed something up, and you were supposed to be assigned to another soul that needed saving, heaven knows there were people down there who deserved it more than me… Maybe you were supposed to find another person who would give you all the respect, all the…” Dean swallowed, “ _ love  _ you deserved, but never got from me.” 

Castiel felt his heart leap into his throat, and he felt his anger crumble and dissolve at the genuine honesty in the hunter’s tone, at his words. He wasn’t dreaming- Dean  _ was  _ saying these things. And instead of being satisfied at the hunter’s admission of his wrongs, Cas only felt worse. “No.” He said roughly, his voice finally working, “It was not a mistake. There are no such things as mistakes in the universe. Your overused saying is correct- Everything happens for a reason.”

Dean looked at Cas incredulously, not even realizing that his eyes were wet with tears. “ _ Reasons?”  _ He exclaimed, “What  _ reason  _ could there be for you to be stuck down here with me?!”

“For this.” Cas whispered, and before either of them could utter a sound, the angel pressed his lips to Dean’s, sealing them in a kiss that they had both only dreamed about for so long. Cas’s lips were soft against his, and Dean felt his heart skip several beats.

He hesitated, afraid and shocked, before melting into the kiss and running his fingers through the angel’s hair. Cas was perfect in every way- it wasn’t like any other kiss he’d known. His jaw was firm and stubbly, not smooth and slender like a woman’s. But it was so tentative, so  _ Cas _ , that Dean loved it even more. He was  _ kissing  _ an angel. And nothing ever felt more right to him, because his angel  _ loved him back.  _ Cas loved him back. He’d lived all these years convinced that the angel wouldn’t want anything to do with him romantically, convinced that he couldn’t even ask because he would automatically be rejected. But now, here they were. Dean was almost afraid to believe it was real. 

They parted at last, breathless and leaning their foreheads against one another. “So…” Cas said quietly, “we could’ve had this from the beginning if we’d just… talked to each other?”

Dean huffed a hysterical laugh, nodding slowly. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I guess.” 

They laid on the bed in silence for a few more minutes before Cas abruptly said, “We’ve faced the devil himself, yet we could not conquer a simple conversation.” 

Deans laughter started out small, a few chuckles here and there. Then, before he knew it, they were both laughing so hard that they could barely breathe. They didn’t know exactly why they were laughing- perhaps it was because of the immense irony of it all, the fact that they were hysterical with exhaustion, or just plain happy that they had both found out their feelings for each other. Dean didn’t know if they would be ok- he couldn’t see the future. But he  _ knew _ that there was no one else he’d rather not be ok with than Cas. 

 

* * *

 

“Did you tell my big brother to confess his love to our best friend?” Sam mumbled lowly after Gabriel had returned to their room that night, voice thick with sleep as the early dawn was making its approach. 

Gabriel muttered something unintelligible from spot nestled against Sam, his face buried in the hunters tee shirt clad chest. 

“Good.” Sam huffed without opening his eyes, “it’s about time. I would’ve done it sooner, but he’d of kicked my ass.” 

Gabriel opened one eye, peering up at Sam through strands of golden hair. “So you leave  _ me  _ to do it?” He asked in a pouting tone. 

Sam smiled slightly, still half-asleep. “You’re an angel of the lord,” he said, reciting the one line that all the angels told them just before starting a bloodbath, “you can do anything.” 

The archangel only laughed, not dignifying that statement with a response. 

“... You really think Jack will come back?” Sam asked after a pause. He still felt like he was in shock- the young boy and him had bonded especially close, since Sam was one who saw him as soon as he was born. He knew that if Jack didn’t make it, it would be a crushing blow to not only Cas, but him as well. He understood why their mother had tried so hard to keep them away from this life- the supernatural was no world for a child to live in.

The storm was receding outside, the thunder and lightning having ebbed away to only a soft patter of rain on the roof. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “but I do know that he won’t let Lucifer take him down. We’ll wait and see what your mom and red find out- if there’s another way to keep Hell locked up, we’ll do it.”

Sam nodded, feeling a glowing wing cover him as he fell asleep to ancient enochian hymns, seemingly coming from the appendage itself. They were low and lulling, all singing undying praises to God. Sam wondered if Gabriel was the only angel who still sung such songs.


	26. One Last Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! As a gift to you, here’s a mini chapter I’ve drafted during my free time on this vacay! I won’t update again until the beginning of August, so enjoy! Also, is it weird that as I’m writing this, I have an icon of Gabriel staring back at me?? :D do a little research, Gabriel is a very important character in many religions, including mine! Makes writing this story a little more special!

When morning came, Dean found himself waking up in Castiel’s room. Despite their shared kiss last night, things never went further than them simply laying in each other’s embrace. That touch, that simple contact that they were deprived of for so long was intoxicating. Dean just wanted to stay there, wanted to spend forever like that with Cas, the angels head tucked beneath his chin. He was in love with a  _ fucking angel.  _ And even  _ more  _ amazing? That angel loved him back. They were spooning, two men in the same bed, and Dean never felt more confident in his masculinity. It was like telling Cas the truth had finally erased any remaining doubt he had within himself- he loved the angel, no matter what vessel they were in, man or woman. He loved  _ Castiel. _

 

Dawn was just starting to come over the horizon when Cas suddenly broke the silence. “I know you never bonded with Jack.” He said quietly, voice rough from sleep. 

 

There wasn’t a trace of accusatory tone in his voice, but still Dean froze, the blissful warmth gone and replaced with an icy tenseness. He was rigid as a board in Cas’s arms, mind racing. This was it. He’d finally had the balls to tell Cas how he felt, and now it would end because of his own stupid detachment to Jack. How could Cas love someone who was indifferent to his son? 

 

“... And I want to thank you.” Cas whispered. 

 

Dean looked at him abruptly, mouth opening and closing in shock. The statement blindsided him, left him confused. “W-what?” He stammered dumbly, unable to string together a coherent sentence. 

 

Cas sighed deeply, shifting so that he was facing the older hunter. His eyes were serious but held no trace of anger or disdain. “You’ve kept fighting for him, for his safety this entire time even though you don’t share a relationship with him. You see how important he is to Sam, to your family… to me,” he said softly, “So you respect him, protect him. And I thank you for that. I know it must be… difficult… to risk so much for someone who you haven’t bonded with.” 

 

Dean’s chest was tight, like someone was squeezing the air from his lungs. He swallowed thickly, trying to make sense of what the man had just said. A flurry of emotions overtook him, like a wave dragging him under. “I…” his voice was low, just above a whisper, “I tried, Cas, really I did. You gotta believe that I tried so hard. He’s a good kid, and I  _ wanted  _ to love him like you, I still want to. But there’s just… nothing. It just never came. And I  _ wish  _ there was something.” 

 

Cas smiled sadly at him, cupping his cheek with his palm. His face looked older, wiser with the morning light casting shadows on it. “There is something there,” he protested softly, “Even if you don’t have the same feelings as Sam and I… there is a respect between you and Jack, you honor each other. That in of itself is a relation that few people will ever know.” 

 

Dean wanted to believe those words so badly, wanted them to be true. And part of it was- he  _ did  _ respect Jack, would never go out of his way to harm the kid. Even if he didn’t like him, was wary of him, he admired the young boys strength and would honor the relationship he had with Cas. But he couldn’t say those feelings were reciprocated. He didn’t know if Cas had heard the words Jack whispered to him before he left, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted the angel to know. Jack didn’t harbor any respect for him, not anymore, at least. He couldn’t blame the kid, of course, yet still he hoped there would’ve been  _ something _ . But there was nothing. Just remembering those empty eyes, cold and calculating, made him repress a shiver. They were devoid of any emotion, empathy, or care. They were like steel, as if the boy was examining an object or solving a math problem. Like Dean  _ was  _ the problem, not a human being. 

 

Unable to bring himself to say anything, Dean simply laid a languid kiss on Cas’s lips, breathing in the angels ever present musky scent. 

 

Their moment was interrupted, however, by the sudden and loud sound of the bunker doors clanging open. Both men bolted out of bed and headed to the war room, where Sam and Gabriel were already looking apprehensively at the door. 

 

“Son of a bitch, what is it now?” Dean cursed under his breath, grabbing his gun from his waistband and aiming it steadily at the door. He exchanged a look with Sam, who slowly peered over the map table to see who was there. When he did, he sagged in relief. 

 

“It’s Mom and Rowena,” he said hurriedly to Dean, who put away his gun and immediately got to his feet. 

 

Just as Sam said, the two women came marching through the door, looking disheveled and haggard. Mary set an unknown object that looked somewhat like a brooch down on the table, huffing a long sigh. 

 

“What the hell happened to you guys?” Gabriel asked confusedly, raising an eyebrow at the red haired witch. 

 

Rowena smiled sarcastically, folding her arms. “Oh, wouldn’t  _ you  _ like to know.” She said sweetly, “We ran into a wee bit of trouble on our way back… your bastard of a brother sent his pets on us.” 

 

Dean’s eyes widened impossibly large, and he stepped closer to his mother. “You were chased by hell hounds? How did you escape?!” He exclaimed. 

 

Mary gestures to Rowena nonchalantly, who was busy smoothing her hair down in her own vanity. “She had a lot to do with it.” The woman said tiredly. 

 

Rowena huffed indignantly. “Ha! I single handedly saved your mum, boys, you should be thanking me.” She muttered.

 

Sam looked utterly bewildered, trying to figure out what had happened. “Rowena, no one can stop hellhounds unless they’re called off… how did you even get that to happen?” He asked. 

 

The red head shrugged. “I have a way with animals.” She said lightly, before caving under all their gazes of suspicion. “Fine, fine… I may or may not have sacrificed a virgin to get us out of that pickle.” 

 

Castiel's shoulders tensed in outrage and shock, glaring at the witch. “You what?!” He fumed, not wanting to believe what had just been said. Sam and Dean also looked sickened by the statement, staring at the woman in horror.

 

“Oh, calm down! She was 500 years old and a right bitch at that.” Rowena scoffed, “Tried to kill me and kicked me out of the coven once I started getting more powerful than her. She killed more newborns than you’d imagine to keep her youth and virginity. She was the living image of what happens when you take dark magic too far. I think I found a good balance, though.” 

 

Dean visibly deflated in relief and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“That’s… better?” Sam replied half questioningly in a wary tone. 

 

“What did you find?” Castiel demanded, eyes still determined to get Jack back. 

 

Mary sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “A long shot.” She stated simply, “it’s an Ancient Greek idol that can summon the gatekeeper of Hell.” 

 

Dean furrowed his brows at her, cocking his head to one side. “And how, exactly, would that help us get Jack out of there?” He asked. 

 

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, the answer to our predicament is rather hard to find,” Rowena said sharply, glaring at Dean, “So we found what we could. If there’s anyone who knows about keeping Hell in Hell, it’s the gatekeeper. If we can get him here, we’ll ask him if there’s any way we can keep Hell contained without leaving the lad down there.” 

 

Gabriel scoffed bitterly. “Ha! Good luck getting anything out of Chloe.” 

 

They all looked at him blankly. 

 

“The gatekeeper,” he amended, “I've only met her a couple of times, and she’s, well, let’s just say she makes me look like the poster child for good behavior. She won’t tell us anything unless she gets something even better in return.” 

 

Sam huffed a sigh in frustration, and Dean and Cas looked beyond exhausted. Demons  _ always _ wanted something, and if there was anything Sam and Dean had learned over the years, it was that. But now, with time running out to save Jack, Sam didn’t know if they could spare the effort and risk it took to get the demon what she wanted. 

 

“How do you know the gatekeeper of Hell, Gabe?” Sam asked, the strangeness of that statement suddenly catching up to him. Since he’d bonded with the archangel, he knew that Gabriel avoided anything that would remind him of his broken family, Heaven  _ or  _ Hell. He hated going to either place, and it was very painful for him to do so. The young hunter remembers feeling the sorrow and grief that Gabe must’ve felt through their grace bond, getting a glimmer of the sadness and hurt that the archangel felt over his shattered siblings.

 

Gabriel’s grace wilted considerably, and he shuffled his feet slightly. “I, uh, went down there a couple of years after Lucifer fell. I wanted to… make sure he was going to be there permanently.” He said quietly, voice almost imperceptible.

 

Sam frowned sadly at that, knowing exactly what the angel meant to say.  _ I went there to try one last time to get my favorite brother back.  _

 

“Ok, so what’ll she ask for?” Dean interrupted, arms crossed, all business. He wanted to waste as little time as possible screwing around with demons. 

 

Gabriel sighed in thought. “She’s power hungry. She likes to mess with people. She’ll want something to play with, something to hold hostage.” He said miserably. 

 

Sam pursed his lips in a frown, gazing at the rest of them intently. “I guess there’s only one way to find out for sure what she’s gonna ask for.” He said, resigned. 

 

Rowena looked to them for permission briefly, before resting a lily white hand on the stone idol and reciting the spell that would summon the demon. They needed to try.


	27. Information and Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group finds out how they can get Jack back from a very vain and self absorbed demon, and Sam and Dean's relationship is being strained under the pressure of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! So sorry for the long wait, guys, as I said two chapters ago, I was in Lebanon visiting family, so I haven't had time to write. I just got back and we are once more in business! Sorry if this chapter is a little long, but it's a necessary one for the progression of the story and characters. Please leave kudos and review! I read every single review you guys leave, it inspires me to keep writing! Also, if anyone of my lovely followers is interested in doing some fanart for this story, my deviantart username is Ilovehowl33- shoutout to V-vianNG for her amazing drawings for this work!

Jack gasped lightly, sitting back on the throne when he realized what his family was trying to do. Feeling like he was doing something wrong, Jack put the Eyes of the Ram down and tried to catch his breath. 

They couldn’t be… they had to leave him here, to save the earth and everyone on it! He was making this sacrifice, this was  _ his  _ destiny! If Sam and Dean tried to stop it, he knew no good would come of it. 

“Mallory!” He called, and not even a second after he uttered the three syllables, the demon appeared. 

“Yes, my lord?” She asked dutifully, head bowed as she knelt before Jack. The idea of others submitting to him like that was still uncomfortable to Jack, but he forced his concern away.

“I need you to keep the Winchesters and Castiel out of Hell. You are not to let them anywhere near the gates, but you  _ will not harm them. _ Just send them back safely where they came from. Do you understand?” He said, the feeling of commanding someone still uneasy and strange in his chest. 

Mallory looked confused to say the least, but obeyed like she was trained to. “Yes, my lord. As you wish.” She said quietly, before vanishing to do as her prince bid. 

Jack sighed deeply, wishing he could have just one more minute with his family to explain things to them. He wanted them, wanted  _ Cas,  _ to understand why he was doing what he was. Couldn’t they see it? Couldn’t they see the tiniest bit of good in Lucifer that he saw? It was like looking at gold through a black kaleidoscope- the image was distorted and difficult to see, but it was there. And this was  _ his father, his  _ sire. He couldn’t let them kill him if there was still good there. They just didn’t see it yet. The crown sliding forwards on his head. It was odd, he thought, how heavy such a small, light circlet could feel.

* * *

 

“Gabriel! What an unpleasant surprise.” Chloe drawled, suddenly appearing in the ring of demon-trapping sigils they’d summoned her to. Mary had recited the simple spell while holding the small idol, and not even two seconds later did Chloe appear. She looked nothing like the classic demon woman the Winchester brothers had run into over the years- sexy, beautiful, and eerily too good to be true. Chloe was more like a witch, long scraggly thin brown hair that hung down to her waist, tied in strings forming various designs. She was still young, looking to be about 20 years old, but her face was so heavily caked in black makeup that one couldn’t tell. Black eyeshadow adorned the eyelids and under eye areas of her gauntly pale face, and her skirt and halter top looked like something a prostitute from the 1600s might’ve worn. 

Gabriel sneered at her, lip curling in distaste. “Chloe.” He snarled curtly, standing protectively between her and Sam. 

The demon smiled sadistically, tilting her head at the two. “Ah, so the rumors  _ are  _ true. You  _ do  _ have a grace bond.” She murmured. She looked at Sam curiously, as if he was some new species she’d never seen before. “You must be Sam,” she murmured, “the famous human everyone is talking about. No man has laid eyes on an angel for millennia… You are a rarity, that’s for sure.”

Sam’s posture tensed as stiff as a board, and he felt Gabe’s grace trying to soothe his soul. The demon was boring holes into Sam’s body with her stare, like she knew something he didn’t- something important. 

“Enough chatting, you’re gonna start telling us what we need to know.” Dean interrupted fiercely, glaring at the demon, “How do we get Jack out of Hell without it breaking loose?” 

Chloe’s smile widened impossibly, thin lips glossed in a shiny, deathly purple color. “Oh, you mean the nephilim?” She drawled, “I’m afraid he’s stuck there. Such a shame, too, he’s so young.” 

Castiel's brows furrowed and he stepped closer to the circle keeping the demon trapped. “What do you want?” He said lowly in that gravelly voice, “I  _ know  _ there’s another way, so what do you want in exchange for the answer?” 

Chloe raised an eyebrow at the angel, smile never leaving her mouth. “Clever boy.” She murmured, “You’re Castiel, aren’t you? The one that stupid little cunt chose to be the nephilim’s father?” 

The angel’s blue eyes darkened into stormy rage, and the vitriol in his gaze was almost palpable. “Don’t you dare speak about Kelly Kline!” Castiel thundered, almost stepping into the circle completely before Dean quickly put a hand on his chest and stopped him. The last thing they needed was for one of them to get ganked by some slutty demon.

“Cas,” the older Winchester said warningly, “she’s not worth it.” 

The fire in Cas’s eyes flickered a bit, realizing that Dean was right. He couldn’t find Jack if he was dead. He reluctantly stepped away from the circle, still fuming. “What. Do. You. Want.” He ground out. 

Chloe’s face sobered up almost imperceptibly, and her gaze shifted intently to Gabriel. “I want what you have.” She claimed, pointing to the archangel, “something that no one else in the universe has seen for eons. I want one of your scales.” 

Gabriel’s eyes widened and he backed away slowly, horror threatening to overtake him as the pieces came together on what she meant. Sam felt the fear through their connection, clawing at him painfully.  _ Gabe, what’s going on?  _ He thought desperately,  _ what’s so bad about giving her one of your scales? Hell, you lost a wing to Michael!  _

“Cut the bullshit, you worthless bitch.” Rowena’s unexpected voice surprised everyone, and the redhead approached Chloe with a predatory gaze, “You may have gotten by cheating everybody else, but you’re  _ not  _ fooling me. This is  _ not  _ a life for a life spell.” 

Dean stiffened immediately at those words. “Wait, what do you mean, life for a life?” He demanded. 

Rowena’s gaze never left Chloe’s, eyes glued to the demon like a lion on its prey. “You can kill an archangel,” she explained in a hard voice, “if you have their dragon form scale. All you need is a spell. No blade, no mess… just the scale.” 

Sam’s eyes widened in realization, and everyone was quiet for a split second before Dean exploded in protest. “But if Gabriel dies, then-“ 

“I die, too.” Sam finished quietly, voice barely a whisper. It all came together, why Gabriel’s grace was shaking with such fear. It wasn’t for himself- it was for Sam.

Chloe’s expression was unreadable as she cocked her head at Sam. “Now, that’s an awfully harsh thing to say,” She said calmly, “how can you just assume that I’ll kill you? Maybe I’d just like the scale to keep as a nice centerpiece.” 

“That’ll never happen.” Gabriel said stonily, “I know what you’re about. I won’t let you. I won’t let you kill Sam.” 

Chloe looked offended, crossing her arms in mock hurt. “You wound me, boys!” She exclaimed theatrically, “Why would you assume I’d just up and kill you? No way, that’s too boring for me… maybe I just want some,  _ leverage _ , so to speak, while the world is going to shit. Maybe a dragon scale would give me more than just the ability to kill you both if I wanted… maybe the scale would give me an escape route.” 

Castiel frowned, lips pursed in confusion. “What are you saying?” He asked lowly. 

The demon put her hands on her hips. “Well, if I tell you the secret to keeping Hell locked behind the gates, Lucifer will  _ not  _ be happy with me. He wants his son. He needs something to adore, something to  _ love,  _ something that isn’t… him.” She said, trailing off slightly, before shrugging. “Or, maybe he just wants something to eat.” 

Castiel gave her a look that would burn someone alive if possible, and Chloe chuckled with that hauntingly empty laugh. “All joking aside,” she continued, “if I tell you how to get the kid out of there, I’m gonna bolt as well. But I’m not strong enough to escape hell by myself, let alone live on earth without something tracking me down and killing me. I’ll need protection, a safe spot, if you will.” 

“And the scale is endowed by god,” Castiel finished in realization, “made only by him. Nothing can touch you as long as you have it.” 

Chloe smiled. “Exactly.” She answered. 

Dean shook his head in protest, scowling at the gatekeeper. “No way,” he repeated himself, “no way. You actually think we’re gonna  _ trust you? _ If you believe we’re that easy to trick, you’re dumber than I thought.” 

Chloe sighed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes. “Ok, ok,” she admitted, placating, “it  _ is  _ true that I could kill two birds with one stone. But know this- if I kill them,” she gestured to Sam and Gabriel, “the scale will be worthless. I’ll be hellhound chow as soon as it loses its power.” 

“Your protection will be gone.” Rowena muttered under her breath. 

“Correct,” Chloe pointed out, “and as much fun as it would be to make you suffer,” she eyes Gabriel dangerously, “and it  _ would be, _ I would much rather be free to do as I please without being slaughtered. Don’t take this the wrong way, Samuel, but you’re just not worth it.” 

“Why should we believe you?” Sam swallowed thickly. He felt his heart thrumming steadily in his chest. He’d made countless life altering decisions before, and they were never easy. But everything was made even  _ more  _ complicated when your life was tied to someone else’s. If it was just Sam, he’d trade his life for jacks in a second, no doubt about it. Jack was young, innocent, and one of the kindest souls Sam ever met. He’d gladly give up his next 40 years so that the boy could live another hundred. But Gabriel… he couldn’t be that selfish. 

Chloe shrugged nonchalantly. “You shouldn’t, honestly,” She hummed, “no sane person should ever believe a demon. But what other choice do you have? Give me one tiny scale that I’ll probably never even touch in exchange for the nephilims life, or keep your grace bond and leave the kid down there to rot.” 

Castiel was visibly trying to keep himself from shaking, his face conflicted as he watched the demon relish in the power she held over them. All he wanted was Jack, his  _ son.  _ Kelly Kline’s son. A part of their family. 

“We’ll do it.” Sam piped up suddenly, stunning everyone. He’d felt Gabriel’s grace tugging insistently at him since Chloe had made her offer.  _ It’s your choice, kiddo,  _ the archangel said,  _ I’m with you no matter what.  _

“Don’t be an idiot, Sam, of course you won’t.” Dean interrupted, glaring at his little brother. 

“Yes, we will.” Sam protested, looking defiantly towards Dean. “She won’t kill us, she needs the protection… but if she ever decides she doesn’t want it anymore,” Sam turned to Chloe, a predatory gaze in his eyes. “Then we  _ will  _ find you. We  _ will  _ hunt you. And we will kill you. It’s your choice.” 

Chloe scoffed arrogantly, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Samuel, you don’t know what I can do,” She spat, “I can make you both beg for your life.”

“A dragon does not beg. It devours.” Sam said in enochian without a beat of hesitation, the words coming from somewhere deep inside him as he stared her down, unafraid. He felt Gabriel smile in the background.

Chloe’s smile faded from her lips and she glared caustically at him, hissing and holding her mangled hand out. Sam could see her confliction, it written plainly on her face. She wanted to kill them for not fearing her, wanted to make them suffer. But on the other hand, she was too selfish and cowardly to risk destroying the scale and have the devil kill her. She needed to stay alive. “Fine.” She growled, “give me the scale and I’ll tell you how to get the boy out.”

Gabriel’s grace contorted and twisted for a moment in a way that Sam had never felt before, but the motion was over as quickly as it began. And when he looked back at the demon, she was holding a large scale in the palm of her hand. It was the same as Gabriel’s wing- once it was separated from its angelic host, it lost it’s blinding glow and was left dull and lightless. Now, it just looked like a soft golden scale from some oversized reptile. 

Chloe grinned, pocketing the scale greedily. The more Sam saw her, the more confident he was that she wouldn’t hurt them. _ She must not have such a great deal going down there after all _ , Sam thought absently,  _ she really wants outta there _ . He and Dean had run into escaping demons before, and although it was rare, some actually wanted nothing to do with the supernatural anymore. Be it a vendetta with another being, or resentment at how they were treated by other demons, they were selfish creatures. They wanted instant gratification all the time, and if they weren’t getting it from Lucifer, they’d go somewhere else. 

“Now, tell us how to get Jack out of there!” Gabriel demanded harshly, intervening before Dean could rail against Sam for giving the demon what she wanted. 

Chloe sighed unhappily, folding her arms. “Fine.” She grumbled, “But if it doesn’t work, don’t blame me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow in upset, looking at her in disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘if it doesn’t work’?!” He exclaimed.

The demon frowned at him, tossing a strand of hair behind her shoulder, “Hey, don’t have a go at me!” She whined, “No one’s ever done this before! I can’t see the future, I don’t know how things’ll pan out. All I know is that Hell is grounded by the presence of its master. The gates were designed to open and close with Lucifer’s grace, and no one else’s. If you want to kill the devil, you gotta have something to take his place when he’s gone, otherwise the entrance will literally be a free-for-all, especially without me there to keep things in line. Damned  souls will escape back to earth, and righteous ones will get sucked in and trapped. The hellhounds will go nuts without their leader, and in short, everything will go to shit.”

“How do we keep it contained without leaving Jack there?” Castiel asked, voice still hard and edgy. 

“The nephilim is born of Lucifer’s grace,” Chloe answered, “he has his father’s power within him. There’s a way to trick Hell into thinking Lucifer’s still there without leaving the kid behind. There’s a vase that used to be used in altar offerings eons ago called the Urn of Sheol. It can hold and preserve grace for centuries, and it was made by the guardian of Sheol.”

“The what?” Mary asked, confused. 

“The Sheol,” Castiel said quietly, “you know it as ‘the empty’. It is where angels go to rest for eternity after they die.” 

“How’s an  _ urn  _ going to help us?” Dean demanded skeptically. 

Chloe raised an eyebrow in mock-disbelief. “Um, hello? Ever heard of false idols? All you have to do is get the nephilim to leave some of his grace in the urn and put it in the throneroom of Hell. The energy signature given off by that grace will be identical to Lucifer’s, so demons, hellhounds, everything in the underworld can run smoothly as they would if he was there.”

They were all standing dumbfounded for a moment, not daring to believe that the ingenious solution was real. Because if it was, that meant they had a chance. A real, possible chance at getting Jack back. A part of Sam felt crazy for trusting a demon, but the rest of him was so hopeful that he didn't care. He just wanted the kid back in their lives. 

“Even if that could work,” Mary started warily, “how would we get the urn?”

Chloe was looking at a reflection of herself in the polished shine of the scale, absentmindedly checking her lipstick and eyeshadow. “Not my problem, lady,” she said, “all I know is that the thing isn’t in Hell anymore. It was stolen 200 years ago, but no one’s bothered to get it back ‘cause we haven’t needed it. Lucifer’s been running everything and unless there’s someone  _ really  _ special who we need to keep around, that urn is practically useless.”

“Who stole it?” Gabriel questioned in astonishment, puzzled at what person would trek the complicated and deadly journey of entering Hell just to get a box that they most likely couldn’t use. 

Chloe shrugged. “Some vengeful spirit who wanted her son back or something. She thought she could use it to contain his soul and take him back to the living with her.”

“What, so it’s on  _ here?  _ On earth?!” Sam balked, shocked that it was somewhere they could actually get to without breaking into Hell, or, god forbid, another alternate universe.

“Probably.” Chloe murmured nonchalantly, thumbing away a stray blot of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. 

“Wait a minute,” Dean said determinedly, pointing at the demon, “you’re the gatekeeper, your  _ job  _ is to let people in and out of hell! Don’t you remember the person who snuck in through  _ your  _ territory?!”

Chloe sighed loudly, gazing irritatedly at Dean. “Look, man, do you know how many souls enter Hell every single day?  _ A lot.  _ It’s, like, the most boring job you can think of. Imagine being a toll booth worker for 5,000 years. All I remember is that the woman wasn’t easy to understand- had some kind of accent or something. She was screaming nonsense when she busted through the gates, kind of sounded Eastern European.” 

Realizing this was probably all they were going to get out of her, (and she’d told them more than he thought she would already), Sam sighed and glared at her. “Fine. Now get outta here.” He said, and before he could open his mouth to tell her that he would find her if she ever considered destroying the scale, she had vanished.

“Well, that was helpful.” Rowena muttered lightly, before smiling sunnily at the group. “Now, who wants some tea? Vodka infused, of course, you’re crazy if you think I’d make anything else.”

Dean was still scowling at Sam, that scolding older brother look he always used plastered on his face. “What the Hell, Sammy?!” He yelled, “I can’t believe you gave her the damn scale! You honestly believe that bitch is gonna keep her word?”

Sam was getting sick of his brother’s attitude- he’d been withdrawn and cold since Jack left, which was strange to Sam, considered he and Dean weren’t really that close to begin with. It was almost like Dean didn’t  _ want  _ Jack to come back home. “If you had any common sense, you’d be on my side!” He countered, “Did you see her?! She’s not some conniving witch out to kill us, Dean, she’s a vain, stupid demon who only cares about herself. She won’t destroy the only thing that’s keeping her alive.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean snapped, “How do you know that one day she might not change her mind and kill you anyways? You used to be stronger than this, Sam!”

“And you used to be wiser.” Sam shot back, stunning his brother into silence. Dean opened and closed his mouth for a moment, not knowing what to say, before snapping his jaw shut and storming off to his room. Guilt and anger settled in the pit of Sam’s stomach, and the younger Winchester sighed in frustration. 

“Sam-” Mary tried to intervene, but he ignored her kept walking. 

“C’mon, Gabe.” He muttered, walking out the door, and before the smaller man could question what Sam was doing, the hunter gave his command. 

“Shift.” He said in enochian, watching as the dragon morphed and appeared before his eyes. He needed to get away, needed to go somewhere he could think. 

Gabriel roared, stretching his wings out instinctively, feathers rustling and tail flicking back and forth. He lowered a shoulder blade for Sam to use to climb up onto his back, waiting until the hunter was mounted on his back between the pair of wings, gripping the webbed spines for support. The cool wind blew Sam’s hair in strands about his face as he felt the smooth scales beneath him.

“Fly.” He whispered, and with the loud beat of his wings, Gabriel’s taloned feet lifted off the ground as he soared into the air. 

The last thing Sam saw before he flew away was Cas and his mother running out to the front porch, begging him to come back. He didn’t care. He needed to get away, needed to think. He’d go anywhere.

  
  



	28. Time to Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam storms off after a fight with Dean and is forced to confront his own fears. Meanwhile, jack is trying his best to be who his father wants him to be- but Lucifer is not happy after a certain discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody!! I really hope you like this chapter! If you do, don’t forget to leave a review/comment and kudos!

It was strange how small everything looked from so high up. Sam remembers being in an airplane maybe twice in his life, but this was different. Perched on the back of the dragon, he could see the tops of trees and rolling hills beneath them. The bunker was isolated out in the country, but even if there was anybody around, he and Gabriel were completely invisible to them. The steady thumping noise of the beat of his wings kept Sam alert and aware of the fact that they were flying high above the world. The air was cooler at the altitude they were at, cleaner without the smog and thick haze of humanity down below. 

He could almost pretend that nothing was wrong from up here-  _ almost.  _ He knew Dean had been angry at him ever since he left to kill Michael. Even though his older brother pretended to be ok with it for the sake of others moving on, he was still upset. Sam had no doubt that he was proud of him, that he was glad Sam had emerged victorious and done the right thing. But he was also disappointed, angry that his little brother had broken the promise he made. And to add insult to injury, Jack had gone missing and he had taken a huge risk by giving Chloe the scale. Come to think of it, everything he’d done since the moment they escaped the Other World with the refugees was a violation of Dean’s trust. 

Because that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? They couldn’t trust each other when it came to preserving their own lives. They might make promises of being more careful or thinking ahead, but in reality, they both knew that they’d trade their own life in a minute to save the other. That’s just how it worked. Dean had done it to Sam, and Sam had done it to Dean. It was like a curse, a double edged sword. Sam would get upset when Dean betrayed or lied to him to save his life, but then when the situation turned around, Sam would do the exact same thing and end up hurting his brother, too. There was no worse feeling than knowing you disappointed the person closest to you, no worse measure of guilt than knowing that they might never trust you again. Sometimes Sam wished a horrible, terribly selfish wish- he’d wish that if he ever died, there was a place he could go that Dean could never bring him back from. Heaven, Hell, anywhere… somewhere that no matter how hard he tried, Dean couldn’t ruin his own life in order to bring Sam back. No deals, no tricks, no nothing. Some place he could be at peace knowing that the brother he grew up with would be safe, would be forced to move on without him. And he knew this was a selfish wish, because if Dean ever did that same thing to him, he’d probably lose his mind trying to go on without the only constant there’d ever been in his life. 

_ “Sam,”  _ Gabriel’s quiet voice rang through his mind,  _ “I’m not sure where I’m flying, here- where are we going?” _

__ Sam sighed, breathing in the cool, refreshing air. He honestly didn’t care or think about where they were going, he just needed to get away. He spotted an empty lot outside of an abandoned gas station out of the corner of his eye, and decided it would be as good a place as any. Somewhere to sit, somewhere to think.  _ “I don’t know… here is fine, I guess.”  _ He replied.

Gabriel must’ve known something was up, because he didn’t even bother to question the strange location. He simply centered in on the space and hovered briefly before landing, his enormous talons sinking into earth below them. He lowered his shoulders for Sam to slide off, before curling up and laying down on the ground in a scaly, coiled up ball. He purposefully remained in his dragon form so Sam could have somewhere to sit instead of the cold, hard ground, offering up his tail as a bench. 

“ _ Not that I don’t love visiting deserted speedways or anything,”  _ Gabriel began, “ _ but why, exactly, are we here?” _

__ Sam scoffed bitterly, sitting up against the large tail. “What are you, now, my shrink?” He asked coldly, the words harsher than he meant them.

Gabriel paused for a moment, trying not to let his hurt show at the sudden bite of Sam’s words. “ _ No,”  _ he replied,  _ “definitely not. I’d be a terrible one- my only advice to give would be to eat more candy and have more sex… Then again, that might fix more people’s problems than you’d think…” _

__ Sam huffed a dry laugh, the smile not reaching his eyes. “I’m sorry, Gabe, I don’t mean to be a jerk, it’s just…” He exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know.”

Gabriel chirred contemplatively, already knowing what the problem was but not wanting to pry. “ _ What don’t you know?”  _ He asked. 

“How to be a good brother.” Sam said lowly after a pause, “Hell, how to even be a passable one!”

Gabriel sputtered in surprise, nostrils flaring at the statement. “ _ Passable?”  _ He asked in disbelief,  _ “You’ve died and gone to Hell for him three times over! Saved his life countless other times, I’d say that’s pretty damn passable!” _

Sam didn’t bat an eye at that, looking defeated at the ground. “It’s one thing to save a person’s life.” He muttered quietly, “It’s another to make them proud… Make them happy. Let them know they can trust you.” 

Gabriel wanted to say so much to Sam at that moment. He wanted to tell him how he knew what that was like. Gabriel hadn’t been a brother to any of his siblings in millions of years. Granted, none of them were very ‘sibling-like’ to start with, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love them, didn’t wish he could be better towards them. He just couldn’t stand the grief and the fighting, couldn’t watch the empty shell of what used to be his family. He was a coward, a failure as a brother. But instead of telling Sam any of this, he only asked, “ _ What do you want for Dean?” _

__ Sam stilled at the question, looking down at his feet. He thought for a moment, only a fraction of a second before saying the first thing that came to his mind. “I want him to be happy,” he said roughly, “whatever that means. I want him to be happy even if I’m not around… I want him to know that he can be ok without me.”

Gabriel tilted his head slightly, looking at his human.  _ “Why do you think he’ll need to be without you?”  _ He asked. 

Sam scoffed. “Look at our lives, Gabe.” He murmured, “We have enemies everywhere- we’ve already outlived a hunter’s average lifespan, sometimes I think it’s only a matter of time. Nowhere is safe, we’re  _ never  _ safe! And I just… I need to know that he’ll be ok if I ever go before him.” Sam sighed frustratedly, “But no matter what I do, I’m always wrong! He can’t accept anything I do for him! I try and save our lives, he blasts me for being reckless- I try to save Jack, he basically accused me of suicide! What do I have to do to be enough?!”

The wind rustled the tall, unkempt grass around them, and they were quiet but for the sound of birds chirping and woodpecker somewhere making his nest. Sam angrily wiped unwanted tears from his eyes, remembering how Dean looked at him just before he left. Those words he said still echoed in the younger hunter’s mind…  _ You used to be stronger.  _ It was like at that moment, Dean wasn’t  _ Dean  _ anymore. He was John Winchester, belittling and berating Sam for questioning him and for doing what he thought was right. Maybe Dean had been telling the truth… maybe he  _ did  _ used to be stronger. Maybe once upon a time, he would’ve dashed their only chance to get Jack back because the risks were too high. But the longer he stayed in the game, the more Sam saw the beauty in the rare good things they happened upon. It wasn’t just about self preservation anymore, wasn’t simply about staying alive. There was  _ so much  _ darkness in the world, so much more than they ever thought. And when something good, something that was light came into their lives, it was a precious rarity that they had to hold on to as long as they could. Jack was one of those things, one of the rarities that Sam refused to let go of. Because as much as Dean hated him for it, Sam would rather live 30 years in a world where he knew kindness, than 100 years in a world of loneliness and being on the run. 

_ “You can’t make someone happy, Sam.”  _ Gabe spoke suddenly and softly,  _ “Happiness comes from within. There’s nothing an outside force can do to make a person feel happiness. No amount of deals or hunts of decisions can make Dean happy, kiddo, he has to find it by himself.” _

Sam looked up at that, staring at the archangel like he held the answers to the universe. “Then what do I do?” He asked brokenly, knowing Gabriel was right, desperate for some sort of guidance. 

Gabriel blinked his large, galaxy filled eyes at Sam.  _ “You can show him that no matter what happens, you’ll be ok. The greatest gift you can give to someone, is the proof that the person they love will be alright, no matter what happens- that they’re capable of getting back up even when they’re knocked down… That’s what I think you can do.”  _

Sam nodded slightly, fully trusting the angel. He’d do whatever it took to show Dean, whatever it took to reassure him that he’d be ok. Even if Sam himself wasn’t so sure. “How do you know all this?” He asked quietly, looking up at him. 

An unreadable emotion flashed across Gabriel’s face, but as fast as it came, it was gone. “... Someone told me a long time ago.” He replied flatly. Sam could feel the sadness in his voice when he spoke, and almost immediately knew who it was that gave the advice. He didn’t dare mention it, though.    
  


* * *

 

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it hangin’?” 

Jack jumped slightly at the sound of his father’s voice, turning to see Lucifer leaning casually against the door post of the throne room, staring at him proudly. He smiled hesitantly, nodding at the ex-archangel. “It’s going well, father… I took inventory of the souls today.” He shivered at recalling that particular task- using his grace, he swept through hell at the speed of light, counting each soul present by their energy signature. He didn’t stay long enough to hear the screams of agony, but not one soul he counted was still or at peace. 

Lucifer clapped him roughly on the back, grinning ear to ear. “Atta boy,” he praised, “how many we up to today?”

Jack furrowed his brows, trying to remember. “4,356,012,337.” He answered, “And we released 1,200,032 on account of 50% repentance to heaven, and 50% to earth as demons through your permission.”

Lucifer’s smiled slowly faded as he frowned in confusion, his lips pursed in thought. “Wait a minute… you counted the amount released?” He asked.

Jack swallowed the fear that threatened to build in his throat. “Yes, father- was that not part of my task?” He prayed he hadn’t messed anything up yet.

Lucifer still looked puzzled, shaking his head slightly. “No, buddy,” he said slowly, “that’s the gatekeeper’s job… that’s weird, she’s never missed an inventory day.”

Jack tilted his head in bewilderment, “What gatekeeper, father?” He asked genuinely, “I was the only one there today.” 

Lucifer bolted at those words, leaving Jack alone and afraid in the throne room, fearing he’d done something wrong. The devil raced through the halls of Hell, shoving begging souls out of the way and plowing through a stubborn crowd of demons with his grace. When he finally reached the gates, he couldn’t help his jaw dropping open. The iron rod doors were still shut properly, but Chloe was gone. The spot where she’d stood for 5,000 years was vacant, a lone rusted key hanging precariously above the lock. He couldn’t get a single beat on her energy signal, unable to locate one of his own demons for the first time ever. She’d vanished, gone without a trace. 

He felt rage and fury started to consume him, and his eyes glowed red as he lost control. “Where’s… my... GATEKEEPER!!!!” He roared, loud enough to shake the grounds of Hell, thundering through every room and corner of the underworld. Jack, who was all the way in the throne room, covered his ears at the sheer volume of the sound, the waves shaking the stone walls and causing a few stray bricks to crumble. 

Jack tried desperately to ignore the feeling that this all had something to do with Sam and Dean.


	29. The Urn of Sheol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Castiel, Mary, and Rowena travel abroad to find the Urn of Sheol. Gabe and Sam have some fluffy admissions of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little long, but I had to keep the writing flowing so that the story wouldn’t lose its rhythm. I hope you guys enjoy and please, please review below! Your comments inspire me to keep writing this story!

“So, who was this lady who stole the Urn of Sheol?” Dean spoke the question everyone was thinking, sinking down into a chair beside the map table. He’d been desperate to get his mind off of Sam since he left- Mary had tried to talk to him about it afterwards, but the older hunter didn’t want to hear it. The words his younger brother stunned him with hurt. They hurt him more than anything Sam had said in a long, long time. A voice in the back of Dean’s mind wondered if the reason it hurt so much was because it was true. He’d never, ever let Sam know, but the truth was that no one could hurt him like his little brother. No one in the universe could make him feel as much pain or as much joy as Sam, not even his own father. The amount of power Sam had over him was sometimes dizzying, and Dean’s ego was just too big to let the younger man know it. So he bit his lip and kept quiet, giving Sam the space he so obviously needed. Space that only burned Dean’s already tormented heart the longer it lasted. 

Castiel shook his head in confusion, folding his arms. “I am unaware of any human entering Hell and leaving alive, aside from you and Sam.” The angel said with a frown, “It is nearly impossible.”

Rowena scoffed, tsking at him. “You and your petty lack of faith,” she murmured, “witches have been going in and out of Hell for centuries. You just don’t hear about them.” 

“That’s hardly a rarity when they sell their souls to become  _ demons,”  _ Cas shot back, “according to Chloe, this woman remained human.” 

The redheads eyes widened momentarily, remembering a rumor she’d heard a long time ago. “There was a group,” she said thoughtfully, “said to be radical Druids who believed that one could travel between earth and the underworld without using dark magic. But they were off their rockers, not nearly as pure as they claimed to be. Many were ex-covenists themselves.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes in focus. “Wait, you knew these people?” He asked. 

Rowena shook her head absently, as though she was lost in a memory. “No,” she said quietly, “they weren’t from Scotland, their group was in Romania.” 

“Eastern Europe…” Castiel murmured in realization, the pieces all coming together. 

Dean looked to the witch and his mother determinedly. “Well, then I say we pay them a visit.” He announced. 

Rowena groaned, exasperated. “Do ya boys know how much it takes out of a girl to keep transportin’ people? I’m almost puffed out!” She exclaimed. 

Castiel looked at the ground, hands clenched, and Dean could tell that it was killing him that he was unable to mojo them around like he used to be- especially when it came to saving his son. 

Dean put a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. But their eyes held an entire conversation- a sparkle that was just between them.  _ Should we tell everyone?... not yet. We don’t have to rush.  _ Dean wanted to kiss him there and then, to wrap his arms around the beautiful angel that he loved, the angel that  _ loved him back.  _ But getting jack safe was their number one priority now, he couldn’t allow himself to forget that. So he settled for a smile, reciprocated by a knowing gaze.  _ There will be time later.  _

“Alright, Alright. Let’s go.” Rowena relented, and with the hiss of a spell, they were gone. 

 

* * *

  
  


_ “Did you know that when I first left you guys after meeting you on campus, I missed you so much that I found your old math notebook from Stanford and read your calculus equations before I went to sleep?”  _ Gabriel blurted out, breaking the comfortable silence that had descended on them after discussing Dean. They simply sat there on the abandoned lot together, watching the world go by, Sam taking a few minutes to collect himself before going back to face his brother. 

Sam’s eyes widened and he turned around to stare at the dragon, not quite having processed that information. “You… you what?” He asked. 

Gabriel’s galactic eyes looked almost sheepish, bashful in a way that Sam didn’t know angels could look.  _ “I had no idea we would eventually be grace bonded, but I just got this feeling that my old man wanted me to look after you. I know it sounds stupid, but… I just had this weird instinct to keep an eye on you- and your weird big bro, of course, but less him ‘cause I knew he had Cassie on his side.”  _

Sam tried to keep himself from balking. Gabriel had felt protective towards him since the very beginning? He always thought the trickster had been completely indifferent to him in the past! And although he’d long since forgiven Gabe ten times over for the whole ‘TV land’ incident, he couldn’t help but shudder at the bad memories. Back before he truly  _ knew  _ Gabriel, back when it was just another monster for him and his brother to take out. But all that time, Gabe really cared? He actually took the time to make sure Sam was alright? He actually  _ missed him? _

_ “I know, I know, I’m creepy and weird, alright?”  _ Gabriel apologized with a sigh,  _ “been that way forever.”  _

Sam shook his head quickly, resting his back against the scaly thick tail of the dragon. “No, it’s not creepy!” He protested hurriedly, “...maybe a little weird, but it was still really… sweet. I always used to hope that something out there was looking out for me and Dean, you know, before we knew about angels and stuff. It’s actually kind of amazing to know there really was someone doing just that.” 

Gabriel was silent for a moment, and if dragons could, Sam was sure he would have blushed.

The younger hunter sighed, gingerly climbing over the creatures tail and going to hug the tip of his snout, which was far too big for him to fit his arms around, but Sam tried anyway. “Listen, man, I never had anyone go out of their way to miss me growing up. Except for dean, but, he doesn’t really count ‘cause he never really missed me, he’d always skip that part and go right to being crazy and finding me so he could kick my ass…” Sam trailed off before continuing, “the point is, thank you. Even though I didn’t know it then, thanks for having my back.” 

Gabriel smiled, but on a dragon it might have looked a little more terrifying than endearing, since rows of sharp knife like teeth showed with crooked scaly lips instead of the contagious beaming grin that Gabriel’s vessel had. But Sam didn’t have the heart to tell him, so he simply smiled back and embraced his angel even more, earning a gentle huff of air from one giant nostril to mess up his hair. The young hunter smiled against the scales, heart clenching a bit as he thought of Gabriel years ago, sitting alone in some motel room, missing an oblivious Sam. 

“You big goof,” Sam muttered fondly against the dragon, “did you really miss me?” 

Gabriel made that chirping sound in his throat that always invoked laughter in Sam, to have such a huge behemoth dragon make canary noises.  _ “Yeah… it really freaked me out, too, I’d never been so worried about someone before. Made me doubt some of my macho masculinity.”  _

Sam laughed aloud at that. “Oh, yeah, ‘cause you’re  _ so  _ macho and tough. Mr. Candyman the heartbreaker.” He drawled. 

_ “I am too a heartbreaker!”  _ Gabriel protested,  _ “I once had five girls overnight and kicked them all out the very next day! Never called them again.”  _

Sam rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, crossing his arms. “You sound just like Dean.” He scoffed. 

_ “Speaking of,”  _ Gabriel perked his head up, “ _ you ready to go back home? It’s getting kinda cold out here, and I bet your big bro will blow a gasket if we’re gone for too much longer.”  _

Sam swallowed his nerves, knowing he’d have to face his brother sooner than later. “Yeah,” he agreed with a small smile, “Let’s go home.” 

* * *

 

The village they landed in was barren, to say the very least. A few lone farmhouses dotted the forested landscape, and aside from an old Chevy motorcycle leaned against a tree and a 1990 Honda Civic, there were no signs of modern civilization. A chicken strolled by carelessly, plucking at the ground as it walked. 

“You sure this is the place?” Mary asked skeptically, looking around at the deserted country road. 

Rowena sighed, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose you’d know better than I?” She sneered, “Yes, this is where I last remembered hearing of them. Used to be a major trade city in the 1600s… Pity, what it is now.” 

“Can I help you?” A rugged voice in a thick accent interrupted them, and they all spun around to see an older man clad in muddy jeans and patched shirt staring at them in confusion. A tractor that he must’ve been driving was parked on the side of the road, bales of hay piled high in the back.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said carefully, “we’re looking for the relatives of a Mrs. Costinescue?” He asked, barely remembering the name of the woman Rowena recalled to be the cults leader in its ending days. It was a slim chance, but they prayed that someone was still around who remembered the Druid group. 

The man still looked wary of them, but obliged and pointed to the shadow of a stone cobbled ranch house in the distance. “If you are debt collector, don’t bother.” He muttered and waved them off, “Costinescu family is dirt poor now.”

Dean nodded slightly to the man before going to join the others. “Thanks, we’ll, uh… we’ll take that into consideration.” 

The man shrugged nonchalantly, sparing Dean one last glance before climbing back into his tractor and driving off into what looked to be a sprawling field of wheat. 

“Hey, wait up!” Dean called after the group, running to catch up with them as they made their way over tree stumps and overgrown grass to the small house.

“Rowena, how exactly do you remember this village in particular?” Cas asked, puzzled.

The witch examined her perfectly manicured fingernails, minding her expensive boots as she stepped over a rotting log. “This place wasn’t  _ only  _ know for witchcraft,” she said haughtily, “it happened to make one of my favorite petticoat brands of all time. I always paid a little somethin’ extra to have my dresses shipped in from here to Scotland. Such a classic, bohemian look- shame that now the place is less fashionable than a 1980s locker room.” 

Dean rolled his eyes at the explanation, her vanity never failing to surprise him. When they finally reached the tiny cottage, it looked to be almost completely uninhabited. The yard was a tall jungle of weeds, the lights were all off, and if it wasn’t for the rusting car parked haphazardly in the makeshift driveway, Dean would’ve guessed that the guy might’ve lied to them just to get them out of his sight. It was a classic, weird-ass house that screamed supernatural, and the older hunter found himself absentmindedly checking his pocket for the handle of his colt. 

Mary looked at them all for permission before hesitantly knocking at the door, dust and moss falling in specks as she did so. 

Dean almost expected no one to be home, so he was surprised when they were answered in less than a minute. The door creaked open, and a small, frail woman who looked to be in her mid to late eighties appeared. Her brown eyes filled with fear when she saw them, and she shook her head. “No have money,” she pleaded with a thick accent and broken English, “I pay bank last week.” 

They all paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Uh, no, that’s not what we’re here for.” Dean said gently, using the tone he always took when they interrogated older witnesses, “My name is Dean, and these are my friends… are you Mrs. costinescue?” 

The blank look on the woman’s face told him that her English vocabulary didn’t extend that far. Castiel cleared his throat and repeated what Dean said, but in perfect Romanian. They all seemed a bit taken aback, forgetting that angels were fluent in every human language.

Her eyes lit up and she nodded, seemingly more relaxed when she realized they weren’t there for more money. “Do you mind if we come in?” Cas asked, gesturing to the group. 

The woman shook her head and opened the door wider, beckoning them all to come inside. Dean tried not to gag at the overpowering smell of mothballs, thick woolen rugs and knitted carpets hanging from the walls and furniture. It was cramped inside, and the woman led them all to what must’ve been her living room- a small couch that had been torn in many places and an old loveseat were the only things in the room, and she gestured them to sit. 

“Cas, ask her what her name is and if she knows Ursula Costinescue.” Dean said, and the angel dutifully repeated the question. 

The woman replied to him, but her expression darkened when she got to the last part of the question, her eyes taking on a sad tone. “Her name is Elena Costinescue,” Castiel said, “and Ursula was her great-great grandmother.” 

Elena hurriedly rambled something off again, but this time, Cas’s eyes widened at the statement. She simply smiled at him, nodding, before turning to Dean and the rest of them. “I asked your friend here to allow me to speak in english,” she said, suddenly perfectly fluent, “I figured this way, communication wouldn’t be so cumbersome.” 

Dean tried not to let his shock or surprise show, and Mary looked cautious of her, like she could transform into a monster at any moment. “Wait…” Dean began, “you knew-?”

Elena smiled knowingly at Castiel. “I am an old woman of faith,” she said quietly, “I recognize the supernatural when I see it, and I do not fear you. It is an honor to welcome an angel of god into my home.”

Castiel grinned warmly, but Dean gave her a wary look. “Yeah, you might wanna rethink that policy nowadays, lady.” He said briefly, “But that’s not the point- if you know Cas is an angel, then you know what Ursula and her coven used to do. We need to know which one of your members went to Hell and came back.”

Elena’s smile disappeared, and she frowned at the older hunter. “I do not associate myself with the darkness of my ancestors,” she said scornfully, “I reject everything about my great-great grandmother. I know what evils come from being a filthy witch.” 

Rowena looked affronted, crossing her arms. “Rude!” She huffed, glaring at Elena, who only glared back.

Mary sighed, looking hopefully to the old woman. “Look, I know you feel a great deal of shame when it comes to your family history, I can understand that- but right now, a child is in danger, and unless you tell us who this person was, we won’t be able to save him.”

Elena bit her lip conflictingly, looking at all of their hopeful faces, before exhaling deeply. “I only know stories,” she murmured, “but the woman’s name was Sasha Radu. She had always wanted a child, but was barren and unable to start a family. She came to my great-great grandmother for help, and after they performed a ritual on her, she went home to her husband and conceived. She was overjoyed at her pregnancy, and gave birth to a boy. But as the child grew, everyone could see that something was wrong. He was born of dark magic, so there was darkness in him. He was vengeful and angry and cruel, constantly terrorizing other children in the village. As he got older, his temper became more volatile, and many people wanted him banished because they feared for their lives. But Sasha loved him still, as he was her only son, the ‘miracle’ child she’d wanted all her life. She refused to let them banish him. Until one day, when his violence became undeniable. He lured a young bride to his home with false promises of love and a proposal, only to murder her and hang her corpse from the trees. The townspeople executed him for his crimes, and Sasha became hysterical with grief. She was desperate to have her child back, would pay any price. So she went to Ursula, who told her of a way to retrieve her son’s soul from hell, and keep him with her here on earth. Sasha traveled to the underworld to find her son and bring him back in a sacred vase, but in her desperation, she lost sight of the rule that no mortal can bring a soul back from the dead. She returned to earth with an empty urn, and when she realized what had happened, she killed herself.”

Dean nodded slightly, his impatience only growing. “Yeah, great story,” he said hurriedly, “where can we find the vase?”

Elena shook her head fearfully, eyes pleading. “You do not want that vase,” she warned, “it cannot help you, it only brings pain and misery to anyone who finds it!”

Castiel intervened before Dean could get anymore frustrated, blue eyes calm and kind. “I know what the urn is capable of,” he assured her, “and I have no doubt that you’re right- in the wrong hands, it is a cursed thing that no human should ever touch. But we know how to use it, and we will put it back where no one can ever find it again. I promise you, it’ll never hurt another soul or ruin another life.”

Elena still looked hesitant, but after seemingly deciding that she trusted Castiel, she nodded slowly. “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly, “but should things go wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”   



	30. Lost in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Cas, and their female counterparts search for the urn in a maze of timeless supernatural artifacts. Jack makes a new friend, and Sam has unfinished business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for your support, and please continue to review at the end of the chapters! Your reviews inspire me to keep writing, and the fact that someone actually takes He time to leave what they think of my writing means a lot to me! Hope you enjoy!

To say the place that Elena led them to was ‘creepy’ would be an understatement, in Dean’s humble opinion. The old woman walked them through the rest of her dilapidated house, evidently suffering from her lack of money, and out back to a narrow dirt path. The path seemed to be leading the way to what on the outside appeared to be a rapidly decaying animal barn, once painted a brilliant red and now reduced to termite-chewed brown. 

The smell of mold and mildew was assaulting as she fumbled with a ring of rusty keys that hung on the outside of the barn, sliding it into the barely attached lock on the large door and twisting.

What they saw inside put the bunker to shame- mounds upon mounds of supernatural objects filled the space in a dizzying maze of artifacts and cursed relics, maps and rotting paper. A steady layer of dust coated everything in a snowy gray powder, busy cobwebs testimony to the desertedness of the mess. They barely had enough room to walk, a narrow footway winding through the barn and bordered by decades old material. The sound of squeaking echoed faintly in the large building, and the hunter guessed this place was a haven for mice and Chuck knew what else. 

“Over the years, I’ve come across many things my great grandmothers cult left behind.” Elena explained, “Every time I find something new, I put it in here. Like I said, I want nothing to do with any of the evil my ancestors unlocked.” 

Dean now wanted to explode, his frustration nearly bubbling. He wanted to ask her how the hell they were supposed to find the urn in a sea of all this crap, but upon further examination, he decided that raging on an old Christian lady who barely had enough money to put bread on the table would not be a good look for him. So, he simply bit his tongue and smiled at her the way he did when they dealt with frustrating victims they were questioning. “Thanks, we’ll, uh, we’ll find it and get out of your hair.” 

Elena waved him off dismissively, making her way out. “Take all of it, dear, please,” she muttered, “god knows I don’t want it.” She made her way back to the small cottage she called home, leaving the barn door ajar so that some fresh air could try to permeate inside.

The older hunter sighed deeply and looked around the barn, arms folded. “Well, this’s gonna be fun.” He said flatly.

Rowena scoffed, tutting in disapproval at the older hunter. “I think you’re failing to see the potential here, boys,” she exclaimed, looking at the mountain of artifacts before them, “this is practically a free for all. I could go for some new spellbooks myself.” 

“No way, Rowena,” Cas asserted, shaking his head, “we’re only going to find the urn and leave. We don’t have time to get involved with any other curses.” 

The witch rolled her eyes but began searching, looking through noisy silver tins and candlesticks. “All work and no play.” She muttered, tossing a silver plate marred with cobwebs aside.

Mary turned to Cas and Dean in shock and exasperation, their lack of planning never failing to amaze her. “Do you guys see what I see?” She exclaimed, gesturing to the borderline hoarding before them, “it’s going to take hours, if not  _ days _ to sort through all of this! How are we going to find the urn in time?” 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing desperately that the pounding headache he had would go away. He had a feeling that his nagging worry about Sam had something to do with it. “I don’t know, Mom, we just gotta start digging. I’m sure it’s not as buried as we think, half of this stuff is just garbage, anyway.” He said tiredly. 

Mary still looked skeptical at this, clearly unconvinced, but relented and walked over to a pile to begin to sort through the artifacts. She yelped and pulled back quickly at the flash of brown fur that darted out of the mass of objects, scared away by her abrupt intrusion. She took a deep breath before steeling herself before starting again. Yep, this is just one of the thousand reasons why she hated hunting. 

“Be careful,” Dean warned everyone loudly, voice echoing throughout the barn, “Just look for the urn and put everything back. Who knows what any of this stuff can do.” 

* * *

  
  


“Dean?” Sam called as he entered the bunker, hands in his pockets, “Cas? Mom?” There was only silence, the quiet hum of the air conditioning steady in his ears. Before he had time to panic, however, a small slip of paper on the map table caught his eye, and he walked over to read it:

 

_ Sam, _

 

_ Gone to Romania with your brother, Castiel, and Rowena- found a lead on the Urn of Sheol. Nothing dangerous, should be back in a few hours. _

 

_ Love, _

 

_ Mom _

 

Romania? Sam couldn’t help the small flare of jealousy that was making itself known in his brain. They just up and left without him? He hadn’t been gone that long, he barely took 30 minutes to clear his head and get some air- Dean had disappeared for  _ days  _ at a time after their fights, driving off in the impala without telling him anything except for the occasional text to confirm he was still alive.  _ Probably for the best,  _ Sam thought to himself sadly,  _ Dean wouldn’t have wanted to see me, anyway.  _ He sighed heavily, slumping down into a chair at the table whilst massaging his temples. 

“Whoa, talk about deserted!” Gabriel exclaimed, strolling in whilst straightening out his leather jacket, “Where’d everybody go?”

“Apparently, Romania.” Sam answered, handing the note to Gabe without even looking at him. 

The archangel scanned the note, raising an eyebrow as he did so. “Huh,” he remarked, “I wonder how they narrowed down the search. Cassie wasn’t getting any brainwaves on the case himself.”

Sam shrugged, twiddling his thumbs as he tried not to look that upset at being left behind.  _ C’mon, Winchester, you’re not a little kid anymore,  _ he scolded himself fiercely, huffing a breath. What would John say if he was here now? Sam almost laughed at the thought. It was obvious what would happen- he’d rip into both Dean and him, railing on about how they weren’t using their heads, how they weren’t trying hard enough. It was only after their father died that Sam came to the realization that it had never just been about finding Azazel. That’s what John used to answer why they were constantly on the run, but now Sam could see that was never true. He’d been running from himself, from his own grief and self loathing for whatever reason. And he’d dragged his children along with him. 

Suddenly unable to sit still any longer, Sam hopped up out of the chair and got to his feet. If there was one thing he hated, it was unfinished business. The sooner he found Dean, the quicker this passive aggressive silence could be over with. They needed all their focus on finding Jack. 

“We need to go and help,” Sam announced, grabbing his demon and angel killing bullets from the his bedroom dresser and loading them into his pistol, “Lucifer is bound to know that Chloe’s gone missing.”

Gabriel watched as the younger hunter clicked the safety off on his gun, shoving it into the waistband of his jeans and pulling his jacket on. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” The archangel asked, “Chances are, Luci has no idea why Chloe disappeared. For all he knows, she could’ve just gotten fed up with his crap and left. He has no proof that you guys are connected to it.”

“Since when does Lucifer need proof of anything?” Sam scoffed, checking the salt wards in their bedrooms to make sure no lines had been broken or unsecured. “If something bad happens, we’re the first ones on his list. He’ll come after us in a heartbeat.”

Gabriel had to concede that was true, but at the same time, he didn’t want to rock the boat by letting Sam march into their search party. The youngest WInchester seemed to attract the most attention from the devil for one reason or another- it was a disturbingly consistent pattern that the angel had watched over the years. Even if he was otherwise preoccupied with something else, Lucifer was always watching Sam out of the corner of his eye, never truly letting him out of his sight. Gabriel didn’t know if this was because Sam had originally been destined to be his true vessel or what, but for some reason, the fallen archangel was infatuated with the human in a way Gabriel had never seen. He hated it, wishing he could put up some sort of shield around Sam’s soul, some barrier that Lucifer could never look past. 

“Are you coming or what?” Sam asked abruptly, shaking Gabriel from his thoughts. The archangel looked to see him standing in the doorway expectantly, waiting for Gabe to mojo them away to Dean and the rest of them. 

Gabriel sighed, feeling the restlessness in his human’s soul, and decided that Sam would never let this go. He needed to work things out with Dean, whatever the problem was. “Yeah, kiddo, I’m coming.” He said quietly, trotting obediently over to the door so he could prepare to take flight. 

* * *

  
  


When Lucifer came back to the throne room, Jack tried his best to have good posture and sit up straight on the throne, looking as natural as possible. He hoped his fear wasn’t as visible as he felt it to be. 

His father looked calm and collected, with no signs that just a minute ago, he’d exploded with enough rage to shake the foundation of Hell. It was unnerving, Jack decided, how quickly he could change his emotions. He smiled at him, thin lips quirked upwards. 

“No problemo, buddy, just a minor hiccup there,” Lucifer said casually, “normally, my gatekeeper Chloe would’ve taken care of how many souls were released. But it, uh, it looks like she’s gone on a bit of a sabbatical for now… Did you see anything out of the ordinary recently? Anything… weird?”

Jack swallowed and shook his head, sitting back in the chair. “No, father, nothing. I’ve been here the whole time.” He replied truthfully.  _ Please don’t be Sam and Dean, please don’t be Castiel, please don’t let it be them,  _ he wished silently.

Lucifer seemed to believe him, because he clapped him on the shoulder affectionately. “Alright, pal,” he said quietly, “don’t worry about it. I’ll make it right. Hey, now that you’re all settled in, I figured I’d better show you your new pet!”   
Jack’s eyes widened in delight and he smiled, his grin stretching ear to ear. A new pet? He’d always wanted an animal to take care of, ever since he came to know Sam and Dean. But being as busy as they were and having the lifestyle that they had, Dean refused to allow any animals in the bunker. Jack had tried to bargain for anything at all, even a goldfish, but the oldest hunter wouldn’t budge.  _ Why are you surprised?  _ He thought bitterly,  _ He’s never like you.  _ But now, his father had gotten him something of his very own? He knew they had somethings in common.

“Really?” He gasped, “For me?” 

Lucifer grinned back at him, gesturing to the doorway. “All for you, kid. C’mon, I’ll show you.” 

Jack hopped out of the chair eagerly, dashing over to join his father as they walked down the large, torch-lit hallway of the main cavern. The stone walls echoed every single noise being made, and water dripped lazily from the stalagmites in the ceiling. As they walked further down, a large doorway appeared that Jack had never seen before. 

He frowned, looking to Lucifer. “What is this place, Father?” He asked, watching as he opened the enormous metal doors with a small black key that he conjured in his hand. 

Lucifer smiled at him, eyes alight with mischief. “Well, your pet is a little big, buddy, I don’t think he could fit in just any old room.” He answered, twisting the key and unlocking the vault with a loud ‘clank’.

Jack felt his heart beat louder and his excitement grew at the words. Bigger than the throne room? What type of animal could his father have possibly gotten for him that was larger than that? He watched as the doors swung open, revealing a dark, pitch black room. He couldn’t see anything, no dog or cat or bird at all. His brows knitted in confusion and he tilted his head, wondering if maybe his pet was a lizard that could camouflage?

He opened his mouth to ask his father what exactly his pet was, when all of a sudden, a low growl rumbled through the room like thunder. A dog? He thought excitedly, but where was it? The growl echoed again, and then, as if appearing from nowhere, two glowing red eyes stared down at him from 15 feet above, making him feel like the tiniest being in the world. The sound of chains dragging across a stone floor made his stomach drop, and all of his excitement suddenly froze over to dread.  

The beast growled again and the eyes seemed to be getting closer, until the giant was standing in the dim light of the torches, causing Jack’s mouth to drop open unashamedly.

A giant black hound, 15 feet tall and mounded with muscle, stood before him. A large, iron chain hung from the shackle around its neck, and its claws were the size of rhinoceros horns. It had strong haunches and large, pointed ears, a long snout and a forked tongue that hung out from rows upon rows of canine sharp teeth. It looked like a killing machine, like death incarnate. 

“His name is whatever you want it to be,” Lucifer said proudly, looking to Jack, “he was the last pup my first hound’s litter… poor thing.” 

_ Hellhounds.  _ His father had given him a hellhound. 

“He’ll do anything you command him to,” Lucifer explained, “I already showed him that you’re in charge. He’s loyal, strong, and hey, man’s best friend!”

Jack forced himself to smile, to appear grateful for the gift, even though he was terrified inside. This was the same beast that had taken Dean to hell, that had scarred Sam for life. And now, it was his. He inched closer to the massive dog, slowly reaching out to touch the tip of its nose. He flinched back automatically, convinced it was going to lunge at him, but was surprised when the dog leaned into his touch and laid down at his feet. The growl in his throat turned amicable, a low and satisfied thrum. Its nose felt  _ hot,  _ like warm water that had sat out in the sun for too long. Everything about it was fire, flames, fury.

“Thank you, Father,” Jack smiled up at him, “I love him. I’ve never had a pet before.”

Lucifer only grinned, clapping him on the back. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” He asked. 

Jack could only nod, looking the hound straight in the eye. It had scars marring it’s face in some places, a testament to its violent nature and past. He wondered if the dog was really evil, or if it was just raised in such a rough environment that it didn’t know any other way.  _ I won’t hurt you,  _ he whispered to it silently,  _ one day, when I leave here, I’ll take you with me. I promise. I’ll show you how to play fetch, and you’ll be a normal dog. You’ll love it, I swear.  _

The hound didn’t make a sound as Jack sat with it, simply taking in its presence. He didn’t even know that Lucifer had vanished, gone to find someone to blame for Chloe’s disappearance. 

Jack thought of something to call the dog, something fitting that would always remind him not to be afraid of it. It was easy to feel only fear when staring at the immense creature. “Ferdinand,” he whispered, remembering the book he’d read during his first month on earth. He’d been trying to expose himself to as much culture and literature as possible, and while they were visiting a library to investigate a hunt, he’d picked up the children’s book,  _ Ferdinand the bull.  _ He thought it felt right, and patted the dog on the snout once more. “Your name is Ferdinand.”

  



	31. Until Eden Grows Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel confronts his greatst fear and dream, and Dean and the group make progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTICE: I am fully aware that a scene in this chapter is modeled off a game of thrones scene. I am in no way taking credit for the work of HBO or the game of thrones creators. When writing a chapter this powerful, I tried to think of a dialogue style that would best convey what I wanted to convey. Nothing came as close or fitted it as perfectly as the framework of that scene, so I only used the basic setup. The only things I take credit for are my plot line and writing style. Thank you and enjoy! Please leave your reviews!

Dean recognized the urn the moment he found it- amidst a four-foot high pile of candlesticks and ceremonial spell bowls, the urn stood out like a sore thumb. It was almost hard to believe that they’d spent a good five hours searching for it, digging through mounds upon mounds of artifacts. An old full-body mirror stood solemnly in the corner, draped in a dusty, moth- eaten tarp, next to bins full of traditional dried herbs that were commonly used in witchcraft, like white sage and pine. Their hands were blackened by dust and dirt now, stained from handling so many old and decaying pieces of junk. It seemed that no matter what it was, even the tiniest thing related to her great grandmother, Elena had tossed in the barn. So, literal decades worth of property was left for them to leaf through. Dean had been working through his fifth pile, discarding and shoving things away that weren’t what they wanted, when he came across it. He half expected it to be some shiny golden treasure, something fancy and bursting with heavenly glory and all that other crap.

But the urn, however, was different. It wasn’t rusted or ornate like some of the other objects in the room. It was a simple, stout black clay pot with a narrow neck and small lid. A dried symbol on the side that Dean guessed was Enochian was the only thing that adorned it, and the rest of it was eerily plain. 

“Hey, guys!” He called out, almost afraid to touch the cursed object, “Call me crazy, but I have a feeling this might be it.”

Cas appeared behind him instantly, eyes narrowed in focus as he stared at the urn. He reached out carefully, fingers hesitating above the clay vase, before grasping it and pulling it from the pile with both hands. “It is the Urn of Sheol,” Cas confirmed seriously, “I can feel the sigil’s power… the sheol keeper sealed it himself.”

Rowena tilted her head at the plain black pot, crossing her arms. “ _ That’s  _ the urn?” She asked in disbelief, “ _ That’s  _ what’s going to hold the most powerful grace in the universe? The thing looks like me mum’s old cigarette jar! There’s no way it’ll do what the demon said it could!”

Dean had to admit, the outspoken witch had a point. It was more than possible that Chloe had lied to them, and the urn surely didn’t look that strong or stable. It had no locks or repelling-sigils, no type of security to keep unwanted things out and needed things in. But supposedly, it was powerful enough to hold Jack’s grace for all eternity. 

“Are you sure that’s what we’re looking for, Castiel?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow at the piece of pottery, “She’s kind of right.” She said, referring to Rowena.

Castiel nodded, never taking his eyes off the urn. He stared at it with an intensity that Dean rarely saw, one that showed his desire to get Jack back. It was a long shot they were taking here, and this urn was their last chance. “You underestimate its power,” Cas said quietly, “It doesn’t look like much because its creator believes strongly in humility and simplicity. The gatekeeper of the Sheol is one of the most influential primordial entities in all of creation, but he believes in the principal of humbleness. It makes sense that whatever he conjures will reflect that.”

Dean sighed deeply, brushing his hands off against his coat pockets. “Alright, we better get it back to the bunker before who knows what happens and we lose it.” He said gruffly, handing Rowena the keys to the bunker so that she could perform her spell and beam them back to where they belonged. Dean had had enough of this freak show for one day, and couldn’t wait to get back to something familiar. Get back to Sam… Dammit, why was it so hard for him to just be a man and apologize? He’d been torn apart by hellhounds, for god sakes, one could assume he’d be able to do this. But he found that the older he got, the harder it was to admit his wrongs. The more he saw, the more it stung when the one person who’d been there his entire life was disappointed in him. He knew he’d have to make things right… So why did it feel wrong to do so?   
He didn’t even have time to finish berating himself for everything, because before he could even blink, the world was spinning and they were back in Kansas.

 

* * *

  
  


“You sure this is the right place?” Sam asked Gabriel as soon as they landed in the abandoned barn full of junk, furrowing his brows in confusion. “I don’t see anyone here.”

Gabriel bit his lower lip sheepishly, looking at his shoes like they were the most interesting things in the world. “I, uh, I might be a little off with my angel GPS lately,” He admitted, “I’m still recovering everything, if you know what I mean.”

Sam could tell he was referring to his time with Asmodeus, and decided not to question him about it any further. That topic was too painful for both of them. “It’s ok,” he smiled warmly, resting a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, “it can’t hurt to look around while we’re here. This place is huge, we don’t know if they went back to the bunker yet.”

They both knew that they had missed Dean and the rest of the group, but Sam knew that Gabriel was proud of regaining his ability to teleport other people. He knew it took a lot more effort than it should have for him, and he didn’t want the archangel to feel like this had been a wasted accomplishment. Besides, what harm could it do to take a few minutes to stroll around the seemingly deserted barn? Dean was prone to forgetting things, so Sam knew he had a good chance of finding a cellphone his brother left behind or at the very least, one of the many fake IDs they kept on hand. 

Gabriel seemed to be appreciative of Sam’s consideration, because he grinned brightly and set about looking through the maze. He watched Sam disappear behind another mound of artifacts, but could still hear the familiar footsteps as the man walked. Gabe whistled at the sheer amount of junk around, casually looking for anything that would catch his eye. Most of it was useless, ruined ritual props from extinct druid groups that never really accomplished anything with their faulty magic.

That’s when he came across the mirror. 

The corner of his mouth perked up as he stared at the tall, cloth draped object. “Well, I’ll never say no to a chance to get a look at this gorgeous bod,” he murmured vainly to himself, wondering how he looked in a dusty, rugged sort of filter. 

He tugged the sheet off, and that’s when his grip on reality began to fade. Instead of seeing his own reflection, the mirror showed an actual, live  _ garden.  _ It was like looking at a movie screen or window- birds fluttered and chirped, a small creek ran through lush grass, and trees towered gloriously in rows of green. 

Confused, Gabriel furrowed his brows and stepped closer to get a better look. This wasn’t any type of dark magic, he could tell from the energy signature- so what was it? He took another step, staring at the scene playing out in front of him. That’s when his eyes widened in realization, his heart speeding up. This wasn’t just any garden. Something about it felt familiar, felt safe, felt like…  _ home. _

He was so entranced and utterly awestruck, that he didn’t even realize when he stepped right through the glass and into the garden, feet feeling the soft earth beneath him. He drew a sharp breath of the clean air, the fragrant air that he knew from so long ago. Birds of every species sung and chirped contentedly, a herd of deer drinking peacefully from the crystal clear waters that ran through the landscape. It was exactly as he remembered it, exactly the same as before. 

His heart stuck in his throat, he walked numbly through the forest, convinced that he was in a dream of some sort.  _ There’s no way this is real,  _ he thought breathlessly,  _ this is some type of trick.  _ But no trick could replicate this so perfectly, no illusion could feel this real. He felt the leaves of the plants and bushes, and they were real beneath his skin. He touched the bark of the great oaks, and they were rich and firm on his palms. He saw the multitude of animals, many of which no longer existed, and the same patch of flowers where Castiel had first appeared as a fledgling. 

It was quiet here- he seemed to be the only one. Tall stalks of wheat swayed in the breeze, a symbol of fertility and life, shining golden in the rays of sun. This couldn’t be real, he kept repeating to himself, this had to be fake. He didn’t even care when he felt his chest clench in sorrow and longing, standing in the place he once used to call home. 

“Hello, little messenger.”

That voice shook him to his core, more than anything he’d heard for the past eon. His eyes grew impossibly wide, and for a few seconds, he was afraid to turn around. He was breathing fast and shallow, heart racing a million miles an hour. Slowly, deliberately, hesitantly, he forced himself to turn around. Each step felt like a canyon crossed. He squeezed his eyes shut, fearing what he’d see if he opened them. But that voice was so familiar, and he hadn’t heard it in  _ so long.  _

He opened his eyes.

He didn’t know what it was in him that allowed him to stay standing instead of collapsing. He was frozen, unable to speak for moments. 

Lucifer looked exactly like he remembered him. Leaning up against the old cypress tree, his posture and the way his shoulders relaxed so familiar. His long, platinum blonde hair was braided down the side like it was when he left- his face was so  _ young,  _ that tanned skin and chiseled jaw unblemished and bright. His white robe hung loosely over his muscularly lithe body, and his legs were bent casually in front of him as he sat. His blue eyes seemed to bore holes into Gabriel with that stare, and a tiger was resting its head in his lap. Tigers. They were his favorite animal that father created. They loved him as much as he loved them, having flocked to him as he strolled around the garden at times. This one was purring contentedly in his lap, large body stretched out in a comfortable rest. And Lucifer just kept smiling up at him, that same smile he used to show just to Gabriel.

“This is dark magic,” Gabriel didn’t know where his voice came from, but he found himself speaking in a broken tone, “like the Mark that took you from me. Took you from all of us.”

Lucifer appeared to have not heard him, continuing to stare up at him with that smile of overhwelming adoration.

It hurt to breathe. 

“Maybe this is a dream,” he breathed slightly hysterically, a small smile of bittersweetness tugging at his lips, taking a step closer to his brother, “or maybe I’m dead and just don’t know it yet? Maybe father has finally let me rest, and I am in Sheol with you.”

Lucifer chuckled softly, looking down at the tiger as he ran a hand through its fur, before looking up at Gabriel. “What if I never entered Sheol?” Lucifer mused in his deep voice, “Maybe I refused to go without you, and told Father to go fuck himself so I could stay here and wait for you.” 

A hoarse laugh escaped Gabriel’s lips, the sheer rawness of the statement making his eyes wet. “That sounds like something you would do.” He said quietly, kneeling down to pet the tiger that was now pressing it’s face against his palm, growling softly in contentment. Its fur was silky and soft, not yet ruined by parasites or made rough by disease. It was perfect… perfection. He let his hand get lost in that sensation that he hadn’t felt for millenia. 

“Or maybe you’re right,” Lucifer said suddenly, eyes never leaving the tiger as he scratched behind its ear, “maybe this is just a dream. Mine or yours, I do not know. These are questions for our father.” 

He suddenly lifted his slender, strong hand from the tigers fur, and reached up to cup Gabriel’s cheek. The second his hand touched him, Gabriel felt like electricity had jolted his body into a stupor, forcing it into shock at how completely real this all was. He hadn’t felt that touch in eons. The touch of his closest sibling, his closest brother. His best friend. It had been  _ so long.  _

“You are my brother,” Lucifer said firmly, his voice uttering the power that he had, the sheer amount of beauty and light as he looked into Gabriel’s eyes, “that is all I know, and all I need to know.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and leaned into the palm against his cheek, desperate to feel this person who he loved, who he thought was dead for so long. His chest was beginning to hurt from being clenched so tight, and his eyes continued to water. He drew short breaths in through his nose as he tried to keep himself from completely falling apart. 

He felt Lucifer thumb a tear away from his cheek.  _ When did I start crying?  _ He wondered dazedly. 

“And if this is a dream,” Lucifer said gravelly, his voice full of emotion for the first time in ages, “then I will smite whatever tries to wake me.”

Gabriel wanted to stay there forever. He relished in the contact and presence of the person who literally used to be the light of his life. Before everything fell apart, before their family was broken forever, back when everything was paradise. Back when love was all they knew, when it was all they cared about. Back when Lucifer’s eyes weren’t sunken and grotesque and sadistic, back when they were still this bright, sapphire blue. Back when his brother was still  _ his brother,  _ not just a hollow shell that spread hatred and misery wherever it went. He would sell his soul to stay in this moment forever, would give anything and everything to stay this way with his best friend. He had so much he wanted to say and ask, so much he wanted to talk to his brother about, he wouldn’t even know where to begin! He wanted to wrap himself up in those arms and wings, and let it shield him from the world and reality.

But then, from far off in the distance, he felt Sam’s soul pulling at his grace, calling out for him. It was fuzzy and faint, like a radio signal from across the world, but it was still there. It was Sam. His human, the one whose soul was bonded to his grace forever. It was calling to him, drawing him back to reality. And that’s when Gabe remembered that this wasn’t real, that none of this was real. 

He tried his hardest to fight against the pain and grief that was gnawing away at his heart, twisting his stomach and clenching his chest like a vice grip. He pressed his forehead against Lucifer’s one last time, swallowing the scream that wanted to erupt from his throat, trying to remember this one last feeling. 

“Until the souls that were stolen are returned, and the bridge that was broken is mended,” he breathed almost silently in english, the words of Michael echoing out in his head from so long ago, when he was naive and asked how long Lucifer would be gone, “until Eden grows back, and the dead star lights the dawn once more.”

Sam’s calls grew louder, and Gabriel failed to suppress a quiet sob as he inhaled again. It took all the strength in him to pull away from his brother, feeling his heart rip in two as he did so. He stood up on shaky legs, looking longingly at his still smiling brother, before turning around and walking away. He never looked back, knowing that if he did, he’d run back into the dream and lose himself there forever, even though that idea was so tantalizing, it was scary. He bit down on his lip as he walked away, biting so hard that he drew blood. He needed something, anything to distract him enough to take the pain that was eating him alive away. Tears blurred his vision as he practically ran back through the mirror/window, a flash of green being the last thing he saw before leaving it behind forever. 


	32. FANART FOR CHAPTER 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a cover for chapter 31- let me know if you like it! New chapter should be coming soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! If you liked my last chapter, I found something to enrich your experience reading it. Starting from the moment *SPOILER ALERT**** that Gabe sees his long lost brother, listen to the instrumental song from the Game of Thrones Soundtrack titled: "The House of The Undying" from 2:20 onwards- just do it :D.

<http://fav.me/dck5fap>

 

Link to the Picture here ------------> https://www.deviantart.com/ilovehowl33/art/Until-Eden-Grows-Back-759439537 

AND HERE:

<http://fav.me/dck5fap>


	33. Neither Death Nor Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel realizes what he’s lost and what he’s gained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! So sorry for the delay in updates, school recently started back up. This is a short chapter, but an important one nonetheless! The verse at the end is romans, verse 37- please note that I have tweaked this verse just a little bit to make more sense for the story, but stayed true to the verse’s original meaning. Thank you and be sure to leave a review!

“Gabriel!” Sam exclaimed, heart beating fast as he suddenly found the smaller man, “What happened? Where have you been?!” His chest was tight with fear- he’d been searching the barn for Dean, when he realized the archangel was no longer behind him. Fearing the worst, he called out for him, only to get silence as a response. The most terrifying, however, was when he reached out to Gabriel’s grace, it was so  _ faraway.  _ Sam didn’t quite know how to explain it, but his soul had panicked. Gabriel was gone. What if something had taken him? What if Lucifer found them? A parade of horrific possibilities ran through his mind, each one more awful than the last. It wasn’t just the concept of if Gabriel was harmed, he would be harmed- Sam had no concern for his own life in that moment. His thoughts were entirely focused on Gabriel, on whether he was injured or even worse.

And then, just as Sam turned another corner to look for him, there he was again- appearing to be in one piece, standing slightly dazed in front of an old mirror.  _ What the hell _ …?

“Gabriel!” Sam called again, grasping the angel by his shoulders and shaking him slightly, “You nearly gave me a heart attack, one minute you were here, and the next… Where the hell did you go?”

It was then, whilst frantically checking him over for any sign of injury, that Sam noticed the pain in the archangel’s face, drawn in tight lines, his honey colored eyes haunted and sad. Even his grace was dimmed, the usual thrumming of energy slowed to a dull buzz. Something had happened to him in the short span of time he’d been missing- something terrible. 

He blinked twice before looking up at Sam, eyes wide and lost. “I went home.” he whispered absently, still appearing to be coming out of some sort of trance, like he couldn’t quite believe his surroundings. 

Sam furrowed his brows in confusion, trying to understand while still being terribly worried for the archangel. “Home?” He asked, “What, like heaven? I thought everyone up there wants to kill you, why would you-”

“Not heaven,” Gabriel interrupted, staring at Sam thoughtfully, “ _ home.  _ Here, but not here. Back when heaven and earth used to be one and the same.”

Still puzzled, Sam shook his head. “What are you talking about?” He pressed.

Gabriel bit his lip subconsciously, trying to pull himself from the vivid memories that had almost made him stay in a fantasy forever. “Earth was heaven, and heaven was earth. They were connected. They were together before.”

_ Before.  _ That’s when the pieces fell into place for Sam, when everything started to make sense. Before the fall, before Lucifer’s betrayal. At the beginning of creation, when everything was paradise… Sam suddenly rushed over to the mirror, hurriedly pushing away the dust and grime at the top of the frame, until the engraved words appeared clear as day: “The Mirror of Lost Possibilities: Window to what should have been but never was, what could have been, but what was lost.”.  _ Fuck.  _ The name instantly rang a thousand bells in Sam’s mind, recalling the object he’d researched once, a long time ago when he and Dean were on a hunt in Kansas. It turned out to be a werewolf that was causing the problem, but they had still considered the Mirror as a possibility once Sam had done more research on it in the library. He remembered reading about the legendary object’s unique ability to trap and keep its victims forever, mimicking with exact precision how people’s lives would have turned out if there was never any hardship or tragedy. It was so accurate, in fact, that it didn’t really rely on magic. It was unknown where the mirror got its power, but all Sam knew was that the fantasy it showed was so tempting, he often wondered himself what he would see.  _ It was almost like a genie _ , he thought,   _ but minus the bloodsucking _ . He couldn’t recall every detail, but the one that rattled him the most was the percentage of people who stayed behind in the figment the mirror showed them: 99%. Almost _ every single person _ succumbed to the sweetness that was their dream, their greatest wish. It took a monumentally strong conscience to resist the urge to stay, to forget about reality and fall into what should have been but never was. Gabriel had seen what  _ could  _ have happened instead of what actually did. He saw Lucifer as what he should have stayed like, not what he really became. At least, that was what Sam surmised from the way the angel appeared to be shaken and the words he spoke. It was different for everybody- for Gabriel, he saw what he wished had happened but never did.  _ The brother he wished had lived but instead had died.  _

Sam’s thoughts were broken up by the sudden sound of shattering glass, and he startled and backed away as the mirror fractured. He watched as it fell into a million pieces on the ground, fragments of dusty shards strewn about in ruins. He lifted his eyes up to Gabriel, who was standing stiffly beside him, staring at where the mirror used to be. He had destroyed it with his grace. 

“Don’t look at it,” he said softly to Sam, voice carrying an air of sorrow to it, “it’s not real. None of it is... not anymore.” 

Sam looked sympathetically at the archangel, heart aching for him. He had come back because of him- if he’d never called out to his grace with his soul, Gabriel would’ve been able to stay in his paradise forever.  _ He deserves that,  _ Sam thought miserably,  _ after everything he’s been through…  _ But, no matter how selfish it was, Sam just couldn’t let him stay. Even if it was what made the angel happiest. “I’m so sorry, Gabe.” He said quietly, guilt threatening to strangle his voice, “I wish I could give you that back… For real, not just fantasy. You know I would if I could, right? Even if it meant I couldn’t keep you. I know how much you loved him.”

Gabriel stared at him with wide eyes, trying to process the words Sam had just spoken. He would go through the pain and torment of separating a grace bond just to make his fondest memories a reality? It was true, he missed his older brother every single day of his life- they’d formed a bond like no other, and when he fell, Gabriel never thought he could feel a bond like that again. No one could ever replace his big brother- no one ever would. But it was then that he realized that someone  _ had  _ come into his life and given him a new kind of bond, a unique one that reminded him of a love he thought he’d never know again. It was  _ Sam. _ Sam reminded him of Lucifer in  _ so many ways,  _ it was staggering- their kindness, their bravery, their empathy… When he saw the young hunter’s ability to connect with someone on a spiritual level, he knew. This soul, this beautiful, golden tinged soul had made its way through all of creation, through all of the trials and tribulations, just to find its way to him. Chuck had literally made them for each other, had given Gabriel this precious human who he didn’t even come close to deserving. At some point over the infinite time that he’d existed, God had made this one-in-a-million human, and waded through time and space just so that they could come together at the right point, the specific moment they needed each other.

Gabriel suddenly embraced the hunter with all his might, Sam gasping slightly at the suddenness and ferocity of the hug. His hands rubbed at Sam’s back, holding and pressing himself as close as possible to him. 

“My Samshine,” he said roughly, face buried in Sam’s flannel shirt as tears of happiness found their way to his face, “my own gift from god.” 

Sam swallowed tightly, hugging the smaller angel back while simultaneously being lost for words. He felt Gabriel shift beneath him, shorter vessel disappearing to make way for his true form. He somehow managed to fit in the barn, all glowing angular limbs and four faces.  Sam found himself embracing the lion’s mane, glittering stars twisted into the fur. A warm, sunlight like sensation enveloped his entire body as the lion nudged him with its nose, rumbling contentedly. He looked up in amazement to see that the eyes of the lion were unlike the humanoid face, wherein there weren’t galaxies that filled the irises, rather there was  _ fire.  _ Burning golden flames, like torches, flashed steadily in the pupils. 

It was breathtaking, and Sam couldn’t do anything but stare in awe. His fingers were intertwined with the long, flowing mane, and the mouth opened slightly in happiness. Sam thought it was odd that the large, canine teeth he saw when the lion did so did not scare him at all. His soul was sated, fulfilled… just all around  _ happy.  _ It was a feeling that he couldn’t describe if his life depended on it. 

Clearing his throat slightly, Sam couldn’t help but remember the reason they were in Romania in the first place. A child’s life hung in the balance- Dean, his own brother, was avoiding him at all costs. The devil could rise at any moment, and Sam had given a thread of their lifeforce away to a demon. But Gabriel had just come to terms with the loss of his closest brother. “Gabe,” he murmured quietly, “you know it’s… ok to be sad, right? It’s ok to grieve someone who’s gone, who you love but have been separated from.”

He didn’t get an answer back for a long moment, and he didn’t think he was going to, until he paid attention to the voices. Those thousands of voices that made up one angelic one, all speaking softly. They were near silent at first, but their whispers continued until it was almost deafening.

_ “And who shall separate us from love? Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither present nor future, nor any powers, neither heaven nor hell, nor anything else in all creation, shall be able to separate us from the love of one another… This I say truly unto thee, winged children of god, thou art to love and be loved for the rest of thine days, for this is the will of thy father. For in losing one brother, I have gained another.”  _


	34. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean talk, and Jack makes a stunning discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Apologies for the late updates (life is crazy) but the next chapter is finally here! Please review and let me know what you think- this one's a rollercoaster ride!!!

By the time Dean got home, he was getting seriously worried about Sam. He got that his little brother was pissed at him (frankly, he had a right to be), but it was rare for him to just disappear without a trace. He’d at least get a curt, angry text letting him know he was  _ somewhere.  _ But so far, he’d gotten nothing. 

“I can sense Gabriel’s grace clearly,” Cas had said when Dean asked, “he and Sam are not in harm's way. In fact, from what I can tell, they are nearby and approaching our location.”

“Well, I hope the lad gets here soon,” Rowena grumbled, heaving the Urn up onto the map table with a great deal of effort, “this damned thing is heavier than it looks! I could use a strong, young pair of arms.” The urn was, indeed, much more work than they all expected. The clay that it was made out of seemed disproportionately heavy compared to its small size and stature. Castiel had mentioned something about the weight of angel blade steel, which had somehow been infused into the pot by the maker and guardian of The Empty. 

Trying to get his nagging mind off Sam, Dean turned to Cas and sat down at the table, hands folded determinedly. “Ok, we need a plan here,” he announced, “tell us about this guy- the Sheol gatekeeper, or, whatever.”

Castiel pursed his lips in thought, sitting close to Dean so that their knees bumped together under the table. “I do not know much,” he admitted quietly, “the gatekeeper is a very mysterious figure amongst heaven and hell. He was created by my Father before angels came into existence, as there was a need for a place where souls could go once their time alive was done.”

“So, is he an angel or what?” Dean pressed, “We gotta know in case he starts any trouble.”

A small, rare smile of amusement tugged at the corner of the usually stoic angel’s lips. “You cannot kill the gatekeeper, Dean,” he said with a tone of fondness to his voice, “he is a primordial entity. Besides, he is known for being the most impartial and pacifist of all of God’s creations… I highly doubt he would ever make an attempt at violence. His entire existence is based around ensuring that angels can be at peace once they are dead, putting grace into a state of calmness and serenity that can only be achieved once you enter Sheol.” 

“He is a pretty chill dude.” A voice said from the doorway, and everyone spun around to see Gabriel leaning against the wall with his arms folded, smirking at Dean, “Doesn’t get riled up easily.”

“Where’s Sam?” Dean demanded, standing from his seat and gazing warily at the archangel. 

“In his room.” Gabriel replied, appearing disinterested as his gaze flicked from Dean to the Urn that sat on the table. “Holy cow,” he exclaimed under his breath, “that’s really it… Cassie, how did you get your hands on this?”

Castiel looked rather proud as he rested his fingertips on the rim of the pot, examining their treasure as a personal accomplishment. “We found it on the property of the Druid cult’s descendent. It appears to be in relatively good condition, although I have no former experience with it. I thought that you could have a look at it, considering your relationship with the Gatekeeper. You would know if it’s in working condition.”

Gabriel gave a slight nod and strolled over to the Urn, examining it with both his grace and the eyes of his vessel. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s good as new,” he affirmed, reaching out to touch it as though needing reassurance, “It’s a miracle that nothing’s managed to break it or throw it out.” He recognized the working of the gatekeeper, the humble design of the urn and the signature sigil painted on the side. He had only fond memories of the figure, recalling a conversation he had with it when he was on the verge of death with Asmodeus. His soul had teetered between the living and the dead, his grace nearly depleted from the constant torture.

_ “Gabriel, it’s been too long. I am very glad to see you.” Gatekeeper had said. _

Gabriel was too dazed from pain and anguish to carry out a response, but he remembered the soothing affect his voice had on his tattered grace.  _ “Am I dead?”  _ He had asked, hoping it to be true. It would have been an end to the pain and suffering he’d been under, a welcomed refuge of nothingness. 

_ “I don’t know yet,” It had replied calmly and nonchalantly, “that depends on what Asmodeus does next. For now, you’re in between. We should know in the next minute or so, however… While you’re here, though, I should tell you that your brother Ezekiel sends his regards. I promised him that I’d relay the message when I’d next see you.” _

Gabriel had felt his heart lighten and his anguish lessen for just a moment at that, smiling brokenly at the words. He missed his younger brother, who’d always managed to bring a grin to everyone’s face. He felt immensely glad to know he was at peace, that he got the reward of rest that he deserved. 

That was all Gabe remembered before being pulled back into the living, as Asmodeus decided to leave him be instead of continuing on with the torture and killing him. Those words kept him warm for hours even after he found himself back in the cold dungeon, smiling like a fool to himself alone. He took heart in those words, because the best thing about the gatekeeper was his incapability to lie. Everything he said was true, as it was not in his design or capacity to tell untruths. 

“It is,” Castiel agreed, “don’t you think so Dean?” 

He looked beside him, only to see Dean’s back as he headed down the hall towards Sam’s room. He smiled inwardly, hoping the two would work things out between them. Well, hope was a bit of a stretch… he  _ knew  _ they would. 

“Ok,” Mary declared determinedly, fiddling with the woodwork on her shotgun, “let’s figure out how to get Jack back.”

“Sammy?”

Sam looked up at the voice, turning away from his laptop that sat on his desk to see Dean standing in the doorway. He swallowed thickly, trying to be casual and not let his wariness show. It had been a while since their heated fight, but Sam still had his own inhibitions. “Hey, what’s up?” He replied, typing absently on his keyboard so that it would seem like he was at ease. 

There was a pause. “We, uh… We found the urn.” Dean said dumbly, clearing his throat as he did so. 

“I saw.” Sam’s reply was short and quiet, “Any trouble getting it?”

Dean shook his head, staring at his shoes intently. “Nope.”

The silence between them was deafening.

Sam could only take so much, so, sighing heavily, he looked his brother in the eyes. “Listen, Dean, I-”

“Don’t apologize,” Dean interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you were right.”

Sam froze, raising an eyebrow at the older man. He’d seldom hear those words leave Dean’s lips, and was puzzled beyond belief. Wasn’t he going to rail on him for breaking their promise? For being careless, reckless, stupid? What was going on here?

“I was just trying to get you to do what I thought was right, but…” Dean trailed off, “but that’s just it, Sammy, it’s what  _ I  _ thought was right. Not you- you’re a man now, you can make your own choices. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Just because you choose something I wouldn’t, doesn’t mean you’re wrong. You always did have good judgement, and I trust you… It’s just… I guess it’s just one of the million things about me that’s screwed up.”

Sam shook his head, both amazed at Dean’s admissions and sad that he was so self deprecating. “It’s not screwed up to worry about your family, dude.” Sam said quietly, face softening, “I didn’t have time to think it over with you when she asked for the scale, I just did what I knew I could. I really didn’t want to break our pact.” 

Dean stayed silent, head tilted towards the floor. “It’s alright, Sammy,” he said in a tone that clearly meant it  _ wasn’t,  _ “I get it. We shouldn’t make promises like that. Things will always change.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he blinked at his older brother. “Not everything changes,” he said gently, “no matter what happens, I’ll always be your brother.”

They both knew that those words did next to nothing in terms of comfort, but they were true. Dean wanted something that Sam couldn’t give him- an assurance that the younger hunter would always be around. And it tore Sam up inside that that was the one thing his brother yearned for the most in life, and he could never have it. The scars of separation anxiety ran deep, especially ever since Sam had been dragged to Hell, Dean helpless to stop it. Sam knew that was a nightmare for his older brother, something that kept him up at night.

“I won’t ever go back to Hell again, you know that, right? I have Gabriel now.” He tried to reassure him, hoping that look of disappointment and sorrow would leave Dean’s features sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, I know that, Sammy.” He said quietly, the words left unsaid hanging between them:  _ But you also have me… And I’m not strong enough to keep you here. _

“Alright,” Dean said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence as he was unable to stand it anymore, “are you done with this chick-flick moment, Samantha?”

Sam scowled at him with a smile in his eyes, throwing a pillow at the older hunter in retaliation. 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

 

* * *

 

Jack thought he’d never hear the end of Chloe, the infamous missing gatekeeper. It was the only thing the demons talked about, day and night. Their constant chatter echoed through the high-ceiling walls, loud enough for anyone who was listening to catch. His father had been busy “sorting things out” lately, and so Jack hadn’t seen him for nearly two weeks now. He spent his days in the quiet throne room leafing through books and counting souls, staring at the stone wall and wondering if he’d made the right choice. He missed Sam, Dean, and Castiel more than words could describe. He only hoped that they wouldn’t hate him for what he did, that they would eventually understand that this was his destiny… that  _ he  _ would eventually understand this was his destiny. 

Jack sighed aloud, slumping down further in the throne, when he heard the noise. It was a soft, faint scratching sound.  _ Scratch, scratch, scratch- thump.  _ It was so quiet that he had never noticed it before, eyes narrowing in concentration as he leaned towards the wall from which it seemed to be coming. Hopping out of his chair, he walked over to the stone foundation, moving a large candelabra out of the way so that he could press his ear against it.  _ What is that? _ He thought confusedly, the sound definitely more clear once he got closer,  _ there’s nothing on the other side of this wall, just empty space!  _ He’d learned the layout of the palace fairly quickly the various halls and corridors one would take to get to the pit of souls, the gates, his father’s throne room. But on the outside, it was just vast nothingness. So what could this be?

The young prince bit his lip nervously, looking around to make sure no one was watching him. He knew he wasn’t supposed to damage his own property, but his curiosity was beginning to eat him alive. So, feeling more guilty than he had in awhile, he began to pry away one of the many stones that had been sealed together to form the wall, using his grace to enhance his strength. 

To his shock, the noise only got louder as he pulled, the cracks in the foundation allowing more to get through. That was when he realized it wasn’t just obscure scratching noises coming from the inside of the wall… there were  _ words.  _ Jumping back slightly as he startled, he hesitantly leaned closer. They were muffled, barely understandable;  _ “... faster!... don’t… games…”  _ . They made no sense when spaced so far apart, but Jack could hear the anger and disdain in the voice that was speaking them. It scared him, but he dared not stop now. 

Continuing to pry, he tugged at the stone even harder until eventually, it gave way. He tumbled backwards onto the hard floor, rock still clutched to his chest. Panting, he shoved the stone away and crawled back to the now open, small space. 

What he saw next would change his world forever.

There wasn’t any empty space outside the palace- there was an entire, sprawling  _ landscape  _ of what appeared to be a work camp of some sort. Builders bound my chains were pulling and lifting beams to build structures and dig tunnels. There had to be at least a thousand, each worker  _ slaving away  _ on various tasks. One was laying bricks down to line what looked like a pathway- another was working on what seemed to be a hall. That’s when it hit Jack: they were building  _ another palace _ , expanding on to the underworld with new places to keep the ever growing population of damned souls. The ground they were building off of looked to be hard and barren, painstaking to dig and construct.

_ Father never told me about any of this…  _ The sight was disturbing enough, but everything turned a million times worse when Jack realized the impossible.  _ No,  _ he thought, breathing quicker the more he looked,  _ it can’t be… t-that’s impossible, they’re all dead! How can I be seeing this?  _ He couldn’t think of any logical reason behind what he was seeing. By all accounts, it should be an illusion, a trick: but his eyes did not lie to him, and deep down he knew that it was real as ever. 

These builders weren’t demons or souls condemned to Hell.

They were  _ angels. The  _ angels who he’d been told had perished in The Fall. Castiel had no reason to lie to him, but their grace was unmistakable. Like a primitive instinct inside, Jack just  _ knew  _ the signature of their energy. 

Afraid and sickened, he hurriedly shoved the stone back in before anyone could notice and slid down against the wall, panting like there was no tomorrow. 

All the angels, Ezekiel, Serafiel, his countless aunts and uncles who he’d been told had fell from the sky before he was born, who’d been killed by Castiel’s rebellion…

Were  _ alive.  _

 


	35. The Lost and Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack plans to do something about his horrific discovery... but not without a little inside information first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!! Thank you so much for your continued reading and support. This is a JACK CENTERED chapter, so apologies in advance for the absence of sabriel fluff here. I promise, this chapter is very informative and necessary and you’ll get your fill in the next update ;) please review!!! I read every single comment and love them!

Jack didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but shake on the floor in silence. This had to be wrong, the angels had fallen!  _ Obviously not,  _ he absently chided himself. He wanted to be sick, wanted to wretch at seeing his family like they were. He now had a strong suspicion that those shackles weren’t ordinary, but were instead grace-binding chains.  _ That’s why no one’s been able to find them,  _ he realized suddenly,  _ their grace signatures are hidden, bound… After they fell, everyone had just assumed they’d died!  _

This was bad. This was  _ beyond  _ bad. He froze as a dreadful notion began to coil around him, sick and twisted. Did his father know about this? He had to! Of course, this all couldn’t be possible without his permission. He had enslaved his own siblings to build and maintain Hell.  _ No,  _ Jack conflicted with himself,  _ there has to be some other explanation. Father was the one who offered my family safety. He sealed his own grace in a binding promise that he’d never hurt them… He can’t be all evil if he did those that for me.  _ But a cold, dark warning in the back of Jack’s mind warned him not to tell a soul about what he saw, to not dare confront Lucifer. Something terrible would happen if he did.  _ But something terrible already has happened!  _ The boy argued with himself. 

Trying to even out his breaths, Jack climbed back onto his throne and pursed his lips. He had to do something about this. Sitting back and allowing it to continue just wasn’t a possibility. The world had to know that they were still alive- this would change everything! Heaven would no longer be on the verge of extinction, Castiel and Gabriel would have their siblings back, balance would be restored, and maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ God would come back when he’d see what Jack did. He had to free them… but he was surrounded by power that would do untold things if he did.  _ Tread carefully and make the first step a small one,  _ he remembered Dean’s lesson while on one of their hunting trips. The older Winchester may have hated him, but his advice was sound. He needed to start small, not raise suspicion. 

“Zach!” He called, making his voice sound as authoritative and dominant as possible.

Almost immediately, his least favorite demon appeared before him. Zach had been badgering Jack since the moment he arrived, his irritating voice never ceasing chatter about various ways to disembowel a soul, vile things that Jack hated even hearing. But Zach was also the least clever out of all his servants, so he knew it was the best choice. 

“How may I be of service, my lord?” He grinned lecherously, bowing before him.

_ Don’t screw this up, don’t screw this up,  _ he thought silently. “Bring me one of the angel slaves. I wish to see them.”

Zach’s eyes widened and his grin dropped, obviously knowing that Jack was not supposed to be aware of what he’d just requested. The nephilim ignored the gnawing fear in his stomach. 

“M-My lord,” Zach stammered, “I-I… Y-you are not to know of this, your father has ordered-”

“Then tell my father!” Jack roared, allowing himself to settle into the uncomfortable role of being the aggressor, “I am your next king and I demand to see an angel slave.”

Zach visibly cowered before the prince’s booming voice, trying to make himself look as small as possible. “My deepest apologies, my lord, but I must check with Lucifer before-”

“Yo! I heard my name. What’s going on, bud?” The familiar voice sounded from the corner, and both looked to see the devil himself leaning against the door frame, smiling at Jack. 

The nephilim hated what he was about to do next, but knew Lucifer would suspect him if he were to act any other way. “Father!” He said brightly, almost scaring himself at how well he could make a facade, “I want something and this demon is refusing me.”

Lucifer frowned, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He glanced dangerously at Zach, making the demon bow his head in fear. “A thousand regrets, your majesty, b-but the l-lord h-has asked f-for an… an… an angel slave.”

Lucifer’s surprise and suspicion was immediate, coming on fast and fierce. To anyone else, he would’ve seemed completely at ease. But Jack knew his father’s energy, could read him and his signs like a book. And he was not happy. Perceiving that he was going to take the casual approach, Jack planned his defense accordingly. 

“Buddy, how’d you… what makes you think we have angels here? Aside of yours truly and you, of course.” Lucifer chuckled charmingly, his eyes a threatening mask of ease. 

Jack internally steeled himself before tilting his head to the side, a slight smile on the quirk of his lips. “Father, you wound me!” He joked happily, “Did you think I would not notice the multitude of my traitorous aunts and uncles we have here?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, looking intently at his son.  _ Now I have his attention,  _ Jack thought. “Traitors?” Lucifer asked lowly, inching closer to him. 

Jack feigned confusion, frowning innocently. “They are traitors, aren’t they? I thought they didn’t stand up for you when God cast you out. They betrayed you, didn’t they? I assumed they’d been here the whole time...  Treasonous human souls end up here, why are Castiel’s siblings any different?”

Jack wanted to smile smugly when he saw his father fall right into his trap, watched his face mask the happiness he was feeling. He truly thought Jack was beginning to see his side of things. He thought this was the start of progress. Jack knew it was the beginning of trouble.

“You’re a smart kid,” he grinned, folding his arms as he stepped up to the throne, “you’re right. I guess… I just assumed you’d take a little more time to learn.”

Jack furrowed his brows, puzzled. “What’s there to learn?” He asked, “They turned their back on their own family. Sam said that if anyone does that, it means they were never really your family to begin with.”

Lucifer smiled slightly at the mention of Sam, shoulders relaxing slightly. His suspicion was waning, slowly but surely. “Yeah, well, even Sammy gets things right once in a while, doesn’t he?” He joked.

Jack chuckled, nodding contentedly. “He does.” He admitted, before getting back to the matter at hand. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve been watching a lot of Malory and her friends, reading the many books here, and I… Well, it’s kind of odd to say out loud.” He tried to make himself blush, eyes looking at the ground.

Lucifer’s interest peaked as he tried to read what Jack wanted. “Well, pal, I’m your dad,” he said casually, “you can tell me  _ anything.” _

Jack smiled briefly before whispering to him, “I’ve never been with a… with a girl before. And I used to not think I was wise enough, but now, I… I think I’m ready.”

Lucifer laughed out loud, clasping his hands together excitedly as he leaned back in amusement. “My boy!” He exclaimed heartily, “Taking right after your old man, huh? Well, no need to be shy, kid! I got  _ lots  _ of beauties down here you might enjoy.”

Jack felt physically ill at the prospect of sharing his first intimate experience, something his mother had always told him was so special, with a  _ demon. How can father be so unconcerned about this?  _ He thought to himself in upset,  _ Doesn’t he care who I choose to be with? Maybe he just doesn’t want to intrude…  _

“Actually, father,” he said, a smile still beaming on his face, “I want Anna.”

Lucifer tried unsuccessfully not to balk at that, eyes widening and a bit of his suspicion beginning to return. “Anna?” He said the name like it was poison, frowning at Castiel. “Why?” 

Jack fiddled with the hem of his coat, embarrassed. “I’ve heard stories about her from Dean and Castiel… they’ve always said she was very beautiful; soft eyes, plump lips, red hair… I suppose in my mind, I’ve always imagined that my first time would be with her. Besides, would it not bring her even more shame if she was to lie with her masters son?”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up a sickeningly red color, and he smiled at Jack, an expression on his face that he boy had never seen before. “I didn’t give you nearly enough credit, buddy,” he encouraged, “I thought the Winchester’s crap had gotten to you before me.” 

It took every ounce of strength Jack had to not to get angry or throw up. He smiled widely at the devil, eyes shining. “You’re my father,” he said gently, “nothing could replace you.” 

Lucifer pauses for a moment, leaving jack terrified that he’d slipped up, before clasping his hands loudly and looking to Zach. “Don’t just stand there. Go and get her.” He commanded, and in a flash, the demon was gone. 

“Well, son, I’ll leave you to it. Fill me in tomorrow- I wanna make sure you had fun.” Lucifer smirked happily, watching jack all the way until he left. 

Sighing slightly in relief, jack felt his pounding heart recede. He’d bought it- he’d actually tricked the devil. Jack had been watching carefully, quietly the entire time, for signs of suspicion from his father. Although it was a rocky start, in the end, he’d believed him.  _ How could I have said such horrible things?  _ Jack berated himself,  _ even if they were lies, it’s still not an excuse.  _

It was a struggle to keep his face schooled in the expression of excitement when the demon brought Anna in. He threw the angel to the ground, laughing as she hissed at him. The loud rattling of her shackles echoed throughout the throne room, and her clothes were naught but dirty rags that made up a tattered dress. 

Somehow, though, despite everything she’d been through, she managed to be the most beautiful angel Jack had ever seen. Although her hair was matted and tangled, it still held that red sheen. And even though her skin was streamed with dirt and ash, it had a fading glow to it. She wasn’t broken yet- her eyes shone with determination. 

Words couldn’t describe the pain of seeing her in captivity. 

“Leave us.” Jack commanded, “And let no one in until I say so. I want this night for myself.” 

Zach bowed deeply, smirking at the look of fear on Anna’s face. “Your wish is my command, sire.” He said lecherously, before disappearing into the darkness of which he dwelled. 

He swept the entirety of hell with his grace, searching every corner to make sure that they were truly alone. His father had retreated back to his throne room and was no longer watching them, and all of the other demons were preoccupied with the souls. Once he was sure that no one else was watching or listening, jack leapt from the throne and ran towards Anna. “Anna,” He exclaimed in a whisper, “Anna, it’s me, jack!”

The angel backed away in fear, hands up to shield herself, before actually  _ looking  _ at him. And when she did, her mouth fell open. It was her beloved older brother when he was young… no, it wasn’t Lucifer, but it looked so much like what it used to be. It was his… son?

“Don’t you know me?” Jack asked softly, trying to keep the hysteria from his voice. 

Anna shook her head, relaxing slightly but still very afraid. 

Jack frowned, shaking his head. “How…? I thought… My name is Jack. I’m your nephew.” 

The beautiful creature frowned in confusion, slowly raising a hand to touch his cheek. It was uncanny how much he looked like heaven’s most beloved angel, like her most beloved brother from so long ago. The very brother who was now torturing and enslaving them, silencing them and allowing the universe to think they were gone. But this boy, he didn’t have the same corrupted grace as Lucifer- his was beautiful like Lucifer’s  _ used  _ to be, pure and bright.  _ A true morning star.  _

Suddenly feeling emotion overwhelm her, Anna bit back a sob and embraced him. She had no reason to fear this child. It had been so long since she  _ didn’t  _ have to fear something. “Light of my light,” she whispered brokenly, pulling back to look at him, “I’ve heard only rumors that you were alive.”

Jack gaped slightly, eyes narrowing as he shook his head in disbelief. How much have they missed? Did they not know about the darkness, the apocalypse? Were they even aware that heaven was nearly extinct? “Anna, everyone thinks you are dead!” He whispered fiercely, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was around to listen to their forbidden conversation, “You have been gone for  _ five years!  _ What happened after the fall? How did you end up here?”

Anna forced herself to school her emotions, but everything was harder without her grace. The shackles the demons put them in restricted their power, leaving them trapped in their vessels, weakened by cold and hunger. “They took us,” she breathed, “we should have died when we hit earth, but they took us before that could happen. They brought us here, and locked us away.”

Jack gripped her shoulders firmly, trying to comfort her while getting as much information as he could. He needed to know everything if he was going to save them. “How did they take you?” He asked, “Surely, someone would’ve seen and known that you’re here!”

Anna bit her lip worriedly as she shook her head, “They stole our grace all at once. It was so fast, Jack, we didn’t have time to speak a word. They were waiting, like hungry wolves, when we fell. We were swept away before we could warn each other.” 

“Who brought you here?” Jack demanded, fearing the answer. 

The angel swallowed thickly, eyes wet but not yet shedding tears. “Your father sent an army of demons,” she whispered, “and he hid them from angel’s eyes. They knew we were falling, so they caught us. Our feet never even touched the ground. By the time we knew what was happening, it was too late.”

_ This was too much. This was all too much, it couldn’t be happening.  _ “What did they do to you? Why can you not reach out to heaven, or at the very least, Castiel?”

Anna’s eyes widened impossibly large, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Castiel is alive?” She choked, overcome by happiness. At first, they were all angry at their brother for causing the fall in the first place. But after years of slaving away, dying and being tortured over and over again, they all came to realize that it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were separated- their father was gone, and they only had each other. Every time one of them died, a great wave of sorrow and pain spread throughout the thousands- they were losing each other, one agonizing soul at a time. Now, all she wanted was her family back. She had just assumed that Castiel was dead since he never came down with them- hearing her little brother was alive was more joy than she’d known in five years.

“You don’t know?” Jack asked in shock.

“They bottled our grace,” Anna murmured brokenly, “the shackles bind it. They clipped our wings, so we can’t fly away or try to make contact with the outside. W-we just assumed that everyone who wasn’t here was killed.”

Jack was horrified, barely able to contain his upset. They’d clipped their wings and bound their grace… that fate was worse than death for an angel, a tortured existence that no creature should be forced to endure.  _ How could father do this?  _ He sighed deeply, trying to figure out how to tell her everything they’d missed. There was  _ so much,  _ and he had so little time. “I need you to listen to me,” he breathed, locking eyes with her to keep her attention, “I’m going to get you out of here. All of you. Heaven is barely running now- Duma and a few of the others are keeping it open, but they are growing corrupt-”

“Duma is alive, too?” Anna gasped.

“Yes, but listen, we have to be quick about this,” Jack said determinedly, “we don’t have much time. Heaven needs you, all of you. And you deserve better than this. Tell me how to free you, what do you need me to do?”

Anna’s heart was racing a million miles an hour- the thought of escaping left her many years ago, and she was scared to even voice the words. Many of them had tried, and it always ended in pain and death. But she had to make an effort- if they had a real chance of getting home, it was her duty to take it. “If we had our power back, we could break out.” She murmured lowly, voice barely perceptible, “There are too many of us for them to contain.”

“How do we get your grace back?” He asked quickly, picking up on the energy signal of his Father coming to see him.  _ He must be coming to send her back,  _ he thought frantically. 

“A-a-a demon has the keys,” she stammered, gesturing to the lock on the shackles, “I think her name is Mallory.” 

_ Mallory? The same demon who’d welcomed him and shown him the most kindness since he’d been there?  _ He felt Lucifer drawing closer, and knew what he needed to do. “I will get them.” He said assuredly, “You cannot tell  _ anyone  _ what we’ve talked about here today, do you understand? You have to wait, and I will come and free you. Don’t do anything until then, just wait for me. Now, take your clothes off.”

Anna nodded hopefully before blinking at the last statement. “What?”

Jack swallowed thickly, hating this part more than anything. “My father thinks we are… I needed an excuse to speak to you. He  _ cannot know about this,  _ we have to convince him that we were doing what I said we’d be.”

Anna felt sick, but understood. Being shamed and humiliated for a moment was worth preserving the only hope of freedom for her brothers and sisters. She gave the young nephilim credit for being able to get inside her brother’s twisted mind, something next to nobody could do. With trembling hands, she removed her tattered dress and threw it to the ground, looking down sadly at her vessel. The once beautiful human body was wearing thin now, skinny from days long labor and malnourishment, milky skin streaked with ash and dirt from digging.

 

Jack hesitated, but quickly undid his shirt as well, swallowing his own self loathing and fear before swooping Anna up to sit on his lap. This was wrong, this was vile, this was…  _ what his father expected.  _ And although it was all an act, jack couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

 

“I promise I’ll free you,” he whispered in her ear moments before Lucifer strolled in, “I promise.”


	36. Goodbye, sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys continue to try and figure out a way to get Jack back safely, but are interrupted by an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for your comments and reviews! Please let me know what you think about this chapter, your reviews inspire me to keep writing and I read every single one:)

“Ok, so we somehow get Jack to put a little of his grace in here, then what, forget about everything that could go wrong and hightail it out of there?” Dean asked frustratedly, staring hard at the urn which sat simply on the war room table.

Castiel sighed dismally, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger, a very human-like trait he’d taken on in the past few years that Dean had grown consistently more enamoured with. “We have no other choice,” he said resignedly, “it’s the only way we can guarantee leaving Hell alive.”   
“If we leave Hell at all.” Gabriel mused from the other side of the room, flipping idly through pages of a book that had nothing to do with what they were talking about.

Dean rolled his eyes irritatedly, not in the mood for the ‘trickster’ persona. They’d barely gotten a wink of sleep over the past week, the best moment of which Dean spent with Cas. He still feels his cheeks spark with a slight tinge of disbelief just thinking about it- eight days ago, acknowledging his love for the angel was unthinkable. Now, he was spending his time surrounded by that very angel who  _ loved him back.  _

“You know who would be most helpful in the situation… My brother, Ezekiel. He was always one of heaven’s best strategists.” Castiel reminisced, leaning back in his chair. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of Gabriel’s lips, remembering his younger sibling. Ezekiel meant ‘to make stronger’, and the angel definitely lived up to his namesake. His garrison was by far the most successful there ever was, conquering demons and protecting heaven no matter what the threat was. Now, the only comfort Gabriel had left of his brother were the words spoken to him by the Sheol keeper. He could only hope that one day, they’d see each other again.

Wait a minute.

See each other again. 

“I know how we can do this without dying.” Gabriel blurted out suddenly, causing Dean to raise an eyebrow at his oddness and Sam to perk up from his researching. 

“What?” He asked, “We already have a plan… Albeit not the best one, but-”

“Ezekiel can help us,” Gabriel protested, “He was the best strategist in heaven, he’ll know what to do.” 

They were all looking at him now, Sam’s heart beginning to thud with worry. What was Gabriel thinking? The youngest hunter prayed that Gabe’s mental state wasn’t going downhill- it’d been hard enough before when they had to deal with Asmodeus’ aftermath, but now that they were bonded at the soul, Sam didn’t think he could bear to see the angel suffer any more anguish like that. 

“... Brother, Ezekiel is dead.” Castiel said concernedly, eyes never leaving the archangel as he spoke slowly.

Gabriel huffed in annoyance, folding his arms when he noticed the looks everyone was giving him. “I’m  _ not crazy _ ,” he assured exasperatedly, “I know that. What I mean, is that if we could somehow speak with the Sheol keeper, maybe he’ll let us have a conversation with Ezekiel just for a moment.”

Dean frowned at him, lips pursed together in a thin, white line. “Yeah, “if” being the key word there.” He supplied, “You do know that you have to  _ die  _ in order to meet this guy, right?”

Sam felt his heart choke him by leaping into his throat, freezing on the spot at those words.  _ He didn’t mean… He couldn’t…  _ Trying to keep his hand from trembling, Sam lightly rested his palm on Gabriel’s shoulder. “G-Gabe, you don’t mean…” 

Gabriel’s eyes lit up with realization when he met Sam’s fear-filled ones, and he was quick to quell the terror that he saw there. “No way, Sammich, not that!” He assured hurriedly, “I mean, if we can find a spell out there that’ll let us meet with the Sheol keeper without making it a permanent vacation.” 

Sam’s shoulders sagged visibly in relief at those words, causing Gabriel to smile softly. He felt Sam’s soul cease its franticness, and it almost soothed his own grace in some sort of way. It was as if, no matter what it was, he felt terror when Sam did. He’d never been so connected to anything before, so he really couldn’t say that he’d had the same experience at any time in his existence. 

“I hate to rain on your parade, dearie, but that’s really quite impossible.” Rowena’s voice came from the corner of the room. The witch had a way of making herself heard when everyone least expected it, and this was no exception. 

Gabriel frowned at the redhead, brows knitting together. They weren’t on bad terms, but the Scottish woman tended to have a talent at getting on the archangel’s nerves. Her sharp wit and condescending humor were a healthy match for his own trickster banter, and he regarded her with a mix of annoyance and amusement. He knew she had a soft spot for Sam, though, so he tolerated her. 

Dean rolled his eyes, rubbing at his temples absentmindedly. “Don’t you have anything, I dunno,  _ helpful  _ to add?” He asked tiredly, “Or are you just here to poke holes in our already sinking ship?”

Rowena tisked admonishingly, a martini glass held elegantly in her slender hand. “So dramatic,” she drawled, “obviously, you need someone to keep you lads in reality. There’s no spell in existence that can hold open a rift between life and death.”

Dean looked at her, bewildered. “Uh, yeah there is,” he said unabashed, “I’ve talked to Billie half a dozen times.”

The witch clucked her tongue at the oldest hunter. “Not  _ human  _ death, silly.” She amended bemusedly, “The afterlife of celestial beings is much more complicated… Petty things, you are.” She gave Castiel a pointed look, to which he simply tilted his head in confusion. 

Sam sighed deeply, stretching his arms out behind him as he looked away from his computer screen for the first time in hours. They were stuck- on one hand, they could take a major chance with the poorly constructed, yet seemingly only possible plan they had ready. On the other hand, it could fail, and, well, they and Jack might be stuck in Hell forever. And when they were stuck, there was only one thing that helped- getting a second opinion. “I’m calling Charlie,” he declared, pulling out his cellphone and dialing the Other Charlie’s number, “she’s the best researcher around. If anyone could help us, it would be her.”    
Rowena looked a little affronted, but decided against saying anything at being second best and settled with a huff of disapproval. 

It was just as Sam was about to press the call button that it happened- a crash of thunder and a blinding light enveloped the room in a sudden blast. Hitting the ground instinctively, Sam’s heart barely had time to linger in his throat before an angel appeared in front of them. 

“You must stop disturbing things beyond your control.” 

Castiel shielded his eyes with a shaking hand, angelblade secured in his hand. “Duma.” He murmured angrily, seeing his sister’s abrupt and rough invasion. 

Gabriel’s invisible wings went immediately to curl protectively around Sam, glaring at the intruder with the sharpest gaze Sam had seen from him in a long time. 

“Castiel.” She said tightly, eyes cold and emotionless. But Sam honestly couldn’t fathom that ongoing myth that angels didn’t have feelings. No matter how stoic or steely this one looked, if she came from the same place Gabriel did, then she had to be able to feel  _ something.  _ Gabriel proved to him that all angels are capable of feeling, if not the same than more, emotions than humans. He wondered if Duma was appearing strong because she thought she had to be, or if it was all one big lie to keep humans from finding out they weren’t so different after all. In any case, Sam refused to buy into the entire ‘cold blooded soldiers of god’ crap. 

“Duma, please don’t make this difficult,” Castiel practically begged, eyes pleading with his sister. “We are not plotting any harm against you or heaven. This has nothing to do with the angels.”

Duma laughed coldly at that, expression bitter as she stood her ground. “Nothing to do with us?” She bit icily, “You are attempting contact with the Empty in order to save the nephilim! It has everything to do with us. Don’t you know what Lucifer will do when he finds out what you’re planning? When he realizes you’re going to take away his son? You’re putting us all in danger!”

“At least he’s doing it for the right reasons.” Gabriel interjected, sadness clouding his features as he stared at the angel, “What happened to you, Duma?” He breathed, “You used to be so gentle, so  _ good _ .”

Duma’s eyes flashed for a moment with something unrecognizable to most everyone but Sam, who was in tune with angel emotions now. It was something personal, that glance- something brief and fleeting between younger sister and older brother that only Duma and Gabriel knew. Like she was remembering something from a long time ago… But as soon as it came, it was gone. Her face hardened again, and she drew in a short breath. “I grew up,” she bit, “it is time you do the same.”

“That’s a half-assed copout, and you know it!” Gabriel burst angrily, pointing a finger at her, “I  _ know  _ you know it, Duma, you are  _ better than this!  _ What the hell happened to all of you upstairs? I know that Dad is gone, and I know you’re working around the clock to keep heaven running- I get it. But that doesn’t mean you just throw away everything you used to be, everything you’ve learned!”

“Everything I’ve  _ learned?”  _ She hissed, eyes alight with fury, “What have I learned, Gabriel? That our Father abandoned us? That no matter how many chances we give them, humans will always screw up? That my own brother would leave me to sulk on his own for 25,000 years!”

Gabriel recoiled instantly at that, the statement stinging more than he thought it would. She was referring to his departure after Lucifer fell and the fights broke out, after he couldn’t take anymore of his family’s constant destruction and left. He was in so much pain and anguish at the demolition of his home, he never really paid any thought to the ones he’d left behind… He loved his siblings, and of course he missed them, he just didn’t think they’d miss him back.  _ Did I really leave her in the dust like that?  _ Gabriel thought,  _ I never was much to look up to, how could she have missed me?  _

__ “Enough!” Castiel intervened, voice louder than they all thought it could be, “Duma, we are not going to run into Hell on a whim, and we are  _ certainly  _ not going to do anything that would risk the already unstable fulcrum heaven is resting on. I, of all people, am aware of how crucial this situation is. I would never jeopardize your lives like that, no matter how little you think of me.”

Duma regarded him carefully, her face twisted in an unreadable mask. Sam thought he saw a lightning-fast look of remorse or sorrow cross her face, but before it could manifest into anything meaningful, the angelblade dropped from her coat sleeve and into her hand.

And that was all it took.

There was no time to shout or yell for anyone to take cover- it all happened so quickly, the youngest hunter can’t even be sure he’d be able to recall it correctly. It was instinctual, like a primal force that drove while he himself sat in the back seat. He didn’t think about what would happen to Duma, what Cas would think, nothing. All he knew was that his family was in danger, and as soon as that registered, his soul linked directly to Gabriel’s grace. 

_ “Shift.”  _

__ The dragon appeared instantly, it’s enormous form far too large to fit in the war room, rough scales breaking beams and crashing against walls as it made room for itself amongst the falling rubble. Holes had been jabbed through the roof at the expansion of its wings, large feathers flaring as it roared. 

The last thing Sam could remember was the look of pure shock on Duma’s face, jaw dropped as she watched the beast before her growl and roar. She never dropped the blade. 

_ “Kill.”  _

__ It was a flurry of rows upon rows of gnashing teeth and deep-throated shrills. And then, all at once, the dragon’s mouth opened and flames of heaven shot out. Sam thought he heard Castiel scream, but he can’t be sure. His soul was completely intertwined with Gabriels, no part of him was thinking about anything else. 

And then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. The flames stopped coming, and the huge beast had closed its jaws shut again, hiding the glittering fangs. All was silent, except for the crackling sound of small, remaining fires that fed off residual ashes. Breathing hard, Sam came back to reality and his attention snapped to where Duma used to be- nothing was left but the charred outline of wings, the telltale signal of an angel’s death. A now orphaned angel blade lay amongst the ashes, the only reminder that Duma was ever there in the first place. 


	37. It'll Be OK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Duma leaves everyone contemplating their lives and relationships. Fluff ensues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody! Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and support! If you want this story to continue, please leave your comments below and they will inspire me to keep on it! I read every single one of them!

 

The entire bunker was silent- no one dared to speak, even move as they all stared in shock at what had just happened. 

The dragon was still there, its shoulder blades still jutting out of the now damaged roof, debris everywhere on the floor. It continued to make low chirring noises, hissing as its jaw opened and snapped closed repeatedly, the sound of teeth-on-teeth clatter reverberating off the walls. 

Dean, Rowena, Mary, and Cas were all back up against the corner, bodies rigid with fear as they stared at the massive beast that had just burned the intruder alive. 

Sam emerged from his trance in a dizzying way- slowly, and then, all at once. Reality faded back into his field of vision like a black and white movie screen, and then the gravity of what they’d just done hit him like a tidal wave. The pure, primal instinct to protect his family was now magnified with the force of Gabriel, his grace and Sam’s soul infused to create the mother of all reactions. He didn’t have time to think, didn’t have time to do anything, really. All he saw was the angel blade slipping into Duma’s hand, and the grace bond had sucked him in like an undertow. He was powerless against its force, its fire and raw strength. It was almost as if he and Gabriel became one, a separate creation born of both of them... and that creature didn’t process the logic of its actions or weigh the benefits and the risks. It only saw one thing: danger. It only thought one thing: kill the danger.

Suddenly, seemingly unprovoked, the dragon reared its head back and let out a deafening roar, mouth wide open and teeth bared for all to see. Dean and the others covered their ears instantly, watching as every window in the bunker shattered with the force of the sound. 

But it wasn’t the loud cry of dominance that hurt Sam’s ears- it was the chatter that followed. Over and over and  _ over  _ again, thousands of different voices buzzed through his head, each one repeating the same thing:  _ “The dragon has returned, Duma is dead.”  _ It rang in his mind louder and louder, and just as it was about to become unbearable, it stopped.

He felt a hand on his back, and he shakily looked up to see Gabriel gazing at him in concern. The dragon was gone, and he was kneeling on the floor, now covered in ashes, as he tried to catch his breath. He had killed Duma.

“What have you done?!” Castiel cried, breaking the tense silence as he glared angrily at Sam and Gabe, eyes alight with fury, “You’ve killed Duma!”

Sam felt his stomach churn as he was hit with the gravity of what he did-  _ he  _ commanded Gabriel to shift,  _ he did this.  _ Dean was staring at him in a mix of shock and concern, Mary looked fearful for him as she stood nervously nearby, and Rowena wore her usual mask of indifference.

“She drew a blade, Cas, you saw that she wanted to fight.” Gabriel defended the youngest Winchester, his voice almost imperceptibly trembling. Anyone could tell that he was shaken by what had just transpired. 

“So you just _went along with it?!”_ Cas snapped, marching up to the archangel in rage, “You’ve killed our sister!”  
Dean quickly rested a hand on Cas’s shoulder to steady him, seeing that things were escalating and not wanting anybody to do anything else that they’d regret. 

“You think I  _ wanted _ to?” Gabriel shot back, “She didn’t give me a choice, she wasn’t going to stop!”

“We could’ve handled it!” Cas protested viciously, fuming.

“Oh, like you handled Lucifer before after getting stabbed in the back?” Gabriel countered, “She was never going to listen to you, Castiel, she was too far gone!”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.” The seraph grit out angrily, “Do you even realize what you’ve done? Heaven is on the brink of destruction, without Duma, you’re only contributing to its demise.”

“Cas, stop it, it wasn’t his fault.” Sam finally interrupted, getting to his feet slowly so that he wouldn’t lose his already shaky balance, breathing hard.

Dean looked concernedly to his brother, eyes furrowing in worry. “Sammy, you ok?” He asked. It had all happened so quickly, he barely had time to check that his little brother was safe.

Sam huffed out a breath, looking reassuringly to the older Winchester. He was far from ok, but he dared not speak of the thousands of voices he’d just heard. 

“She was our sister!” Castiel repeated in anguish, shoving Gabriel hard in the chest. 

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed, pulling him back, “Get ahold of yourself!”

“Look, it wasn’t our choice!” Sam yelled through the chaos, “it was like… like we weren’t in control. When she refused to drop the blade, something just snapped- I don’t know what it was, I couldn’t stop it.”

Cas paused at that, face scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean, you couldn’t stop it?” He asked carefully. 

Sam shook his head, at an utter loss for words. How could he even begin to explain what’d just happened? He himself didn’t even know. How did he lose control so easily? Did Gabriel feel what he’d just felt? Who were those voices he’d just heard? Were they angels? He didn’t know where to start.

“Ok, look, we need to get back to the main goal here!” Mary announced suddenly, taking on her commander voice, “We need to get Jack back, and every minute that passes is time we won’t get again. Dean and Rowena, I need you both to start re-painting the sigils.” She gestured to the broken roof and scattered debris where the dragon had broken through, the sudden disruption breaking the multitude of seals and protection spells the bunker had. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that.” Gabriel said flatly, and with a snap of his fingers, the room was back to how it used to be, everything put back in place. Mary opened her mouth to say something and Cas looked like he had an infinite amount of questions, but before either of them could say anything, Gabriel intervened. “Sam, can I talk to you?” He asked quietly, before  taking him by the elbow and leading him down the hall and to their bedroom.

“What the hell was that?” Sam breathed as the door closed behind them, looking at the angel intently, “I-I mean what, what just happened? What were those voices I was hearing, why did we just snap like that?”

Gabriel bit his lip nervously, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “The voices… They were angel radio,” he murmured, “and you shouldn’t be able to hear it. I dropped the ball on that, kiddo, I’m sorry.”

Sam frowned in confusion. “Why are you sorry?”

Gabriel huffed a dry laugh, looking at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “As you just found out, angelic chatter is anything but fun to deal with. Unless you have millenia of practice dealing with it, it can overwhelm you. I’ve managed to keep you from it since we’ve been bonded, kind of block it out enough so that you wouldn’t have to deal with it. But when Duma attacked, I dropped my guard… I just lost it.”

Sam fixed Gabe with a look of awe and affection, soul touched that the angel had been going to those lengths just to protect him all this time. “You didn’t have to do that, Gabe.” He muttered quietly, reaching out and subconsciously brushing a hand across the newly manifested set of wings that encircled them, “This is all my fault, I was the one who gave the command.”

The archangel shook his head, feather poking slightly at the younger Winchester’s shoulder. “That’s not how it works all the time, pal,” he corrected gently, “even if you hadn’t said a word, I still would’ve flown off the handle. That’s one of the downsides to this whole thing, I guess… With our souls combined, we can lose it real easily. The bond acts on emotions like anger, love, that kind of thing. It doesn’t act on logic.” 

This was news to Sam- and not exactly good news, either. If their power activated on emotion alone, then it would be near impossible for them to control! “What do you mean?” Sam asked, “Random things will just start happening if we get upset?”

Gabriel sighed deeply, lips pursed together. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “this has never happened before. But… things… tend to happen unexpectedly when an emotion is strong enough. There’ve been stories of Enoch’s bonded angel causing hurricanes that lasted for days during times of distress, and perfect weather and beautiful wings when times were good. No one knows what exactly will be manifested, but obviously, we were both scared enough for the bond to get out of control.” 

Sam’s expression softened and he gazed at his angel in sympathy. “I know she was your sister, Gabe… I’m so sorry.” 

Gabriel was silent for a moment, staring intently at the floor with an unreadable look on his face. He didn’t need words- Sam could feel the sorrow rolling off his grace in waves, pangs of grief and sadness mixing in with fond memories of the angel that Sam hardly knew. But from what he could feel, Gabriel  _ did _ have a soft spot for her. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Samshine.” Gabe whispered eventually, face tight with rue. “We’ve forgotten what we’re here for. Angels, I mean. Duma was good… But she was never built to live like this. The way heaven is now, it’s destroying the rest of them inside and out. I think she was gone long before she came down here.”

Sam could only nod, having nothing else to say. He’d seen Gabriel lose sibling after sibling, and to say that it was heartbreaking would be an understatement. He knew only too well how it felt after losing Dean, that emptiness that devoured you bit by bit. It was all he could do to not feel guilty after Gabriel left the Mirror of What should have been. 

So, since they were still stuck at square one and there were no words, Sam settled for resting his head on Gabe’s shoulder, pulling the smaller vessel close to him and just sighing. Touch was subconscious now, a part of their daily routine. He was surprised initially that he didn’t find it weird, didn’t think it was an invasion of personal space. But then again, how personal can you really get when you know the very center of someone’s soul?

Gabriel closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace, wondering what had happened to his beloved family. 

 

* * *

  
  


“You wanna talk about what just happened?” Dean asked gruffly, sitting down next to Cas at the empty war room table. Mary and Rowena had picked up where they left off, going to find Charlie to ask about a possible spell that could help them.

“No.” Cas shook his head tiredly, “We need to keep working, Jack is still trapped.” 

Dean sighed heavily, resting a hand on his angel’s shoulder. “Mom and Rowena won’t be back for another hour, Cas, there’s nothing you can do until then.”

The angel dropped the book he’d been trying (and failing) to read, slouching in his chair in exhaustion. “Why did he ever make that deal with Lucifer?” He whispered flatly, staring resignedly at his hands. 

“Because he’s a kid,” Dean answered easily, thinking back on his own earlier escapades, “kids do stupid things. Especially when it comes to saving people they care about.” 

Castiel smiled, small but true, at that. “You must be very wise after raising Sam. Do you consider yourself an expert on the matter?”

Dean huffed a laugh at the statement, smirking slightly. “Maybe I do,” he said slyly, “afterall, Sammy  _ did  _ make it to Stanford.”

Castiel rolled his eyes at him, crossing his arms in an attempt to keep himself from losing all composure and launching himself into Dean’s arms. “You’re saying  _ you’re _ the one who drove Sam towards a prestigious school?”

Dean glared in mock annoyance, puffing out his chest like he’d been insulted. “Hey, I’d like to think I had something to do with it!” He protested, “Just ‘cause I thought that Stanford was a car brand at first doesn’t mean I don’t have the same brains my kid brother does.” 

Castiel laughed out loud at that, a rare moment of bliss sneaking into his otherwise dark and gloomy world. Dean always knew what to say to make things better, no matter how bad they were. His son was stuck in Hell, his sister had just been killed, and they were no closer to solving anything than they had been since they retrieved the urn. But somehow, he felt safe enough to keep his head above the water when he was near this man. This wonderful, magnetic soul who changed everything he thought about earth and humanity… This soul that taught him love. He was still learning it, and that’s why he was surprised when he leaned in abruptly and pressed his lips to Dean’s, eyes closed as he took in the feeling. A small part of him wanted to recoil in fear of rejection, but before it could, Dean’s hand came up to cup the back of his head and keep their foreheads touching. 

“It’ll be alright,” Dean said, voice deep as green eyes bore into blue, “I promise.” 

Cas could only smile against his lips, melting into the embrace like a fish into water. He felt rough hands being intertwined with his, and they just sat there like that for a long, long time. Cas thinks- no,  _ knows-  _ that he would’ve stayed like that forever if he could have.


	38. Born To Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is discovering more and more about his destiny, plus some sabriel feels ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the lag in update, but here you go!

“ _ Sammy…”  _ a soft, lilting voice called Sam back to the world of the living,  _ “Sammy, you’ve been sleeping for a while now.”  _

Sam groaned, eyes blinking open sluggishly. He must’ve fallen asleep in his room after the confrontation with Duma earlier- had he really been that sleep deprived?  _ I guess I just forgot how to function like a normal human being,  _ he chided himself. 

When he opened his eyes fully, he smiled to see that what he was laying on was  _ not  _ a bed, rather two mammoth sized wings overlapping one another to form a sort of canopy. He was laying  _ on Gabe.  _ The feathers were downy soft and pulsating gently with galaxies and infinite stretches of stars. Gabriel loomed above him, staring down at Sam in adoration with his glowing humanoid mask. The eyes squinted slightly in a mouthless smile, large and full of grace. 

A long, celestial finger about the length of a 6’7” human reached down to caress Sam’s cheek, the light touch comforting and safe. 

_ “Sleepy Sammy…”  _ the voices cooed affectionately,  _ “I thought you might want me to wake you up eventually. I let you sleep as long as I could. You are very tired.”  _

Sam blushed slightly, groaning before burying his face back into the downy wings. He never wanted to leave that position, he wanted to stay right there forever in a state of perpetual bliss. “Then let me sleep.” He murmured in a rough voice. He was too tired to even be embarrassed that he was snoozing on his best friend.

_ “I love you.”  _ The voices hummed and whirred, whistling and cooing around Sam like wisps of sound. Sam raised an eyebrow slightly, amused at the randomness of the statement. He was beginning to notice that Gabriel’s trueform self tended to say whatever it was feeling at the current moment, rather than what was on the subject they were talking about or what was socially acceptable. It made things a bit random, and at times hard to decipher, but Sam almost always ended up getting it eventually.

“Mmmh…” He replied drowsily, rolling over on his side so that his face was nestled against the feathers. He wasn’t ready to get up yet.

_ “Dean and Castiel are in love.”  _ Gabe mused, the child’s voice most prominent amongst the thousands of tones he spoke in. 

“I know.” Sam muttered, sleep tugging at the fringes of his consciousness again. He’d known for a long, long time that his brother had feelings for the angel. He never spoke a word about it, because he didn’t want to upset his brother. Growing up with John Winchester as the primary figure in their lives, Dean had been conditioned to place all of his self worth and confidence into the macho, badass persona that their father deemed a ‘real man’. And on every level, Dean  _ was  _ just that- he was a badass monster killer and the hero that saved the day. His brother was a womanizer, constantly winning over girls wherever they went. Sam knew it scared him that he had feelings for another man, muchless a supernatural creature in a male’s body. Of course, the youngest Winchester would love his brother no matter what- whether Dean was gay, bisexual, or straight, it didn’t matter to him. But he knew it mattered to Dean, so he kept his mouth shut. But now that Dean had finally come to terms with it, Sam was more than happy for him. His brother deserved the world, the least he could get was to be happy. 

_ “Sammy, Sammy, wake up…”  _ The voices kept persisting softly, rousing Sam again from his half-conscious state. 

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the exhaustion. “Alright,” he yawned, basking in the golden glow of Gabriel’s wings, “I’m up. Where are Dean and Cas?” 

A chill ran through his spine when the warmth and light suddenly disappeared, and Gabriel shrunk back down into his vessel. He was curled up on the bed, watching Sam with those whiskey-rustic eyes. “I don’t know. Somewhere down the hall doing one of two things: trying to get Jack back, or trying to take off each other’s pants.”

“Gabe!” Sam scolded, punching him lightly in the arm as he shook his head at the crude comment. 

“What?” The angel shrugged, rolling over on his side as Sam stood up and put his jacket on in an attempt to counter the bunker’s regular drafts of cold air. “I’m just being honest.”

Sam huffed a mirthless laugh, tossing Gabriel his own coat. “Well, your honesty can wait. We need to go find Charlie- she hasn’t answered any of my texts, and if anyone knows how to help us, it’s her.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, lips quirking in confusion. “She a witch?” 

“No,” he replied, “an old friend. She knows alot about spells, maybe even more than Rowena. If there’s a way to get you to talk to the keeper of Sheol without dying, she’ll know it.” 

  
  


“Anna,” Lucifer drawled, arms crossed over his chest as he took in the sight of his former sibling draped across his son’s lap, “nice to see you again. Tell me, are you enjoying yourself?”

Anna forced herself to swallow her fear. Years of torture and slavery had made her wary of every single movement, and coming face to face with her fallen brother was almost more than she could handle. But she knew she had to play along in order for this to work- Jack was right, Lucifer could never know. 

So, playing the part she wore so well, she whimpered and looked at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze. Jack felt sympathy and sadness clawing at his insides, hating himself for doing this to his relative.  _ Father can’t really condone this, not deep down…  _

__ “Oh, come on, don’t be like that!” Lucifer chuckled, leaning against the wall as he stared at her, “It’s gotta be better than the trenches. Speaking of, how’s the new west wing coming along? I took a gander yesterday and I gotta admit, progress is pretty slow. Why is that?” 

Jack quickly schooled his expression back to one of delight, masking his horror with layers upon layers of lust and longing. He grabbed her in a way that looked rough from the outside, but kept his pressure light and avoided bruising. “Don’t cry, bitch.” He snarled, shoving her off of him, his eyes glowing a fiery red, “My father asked you a question.”

Lucifer tried to hide his look of surprise at his son, and Jack couldn’t even believe himself. He didn’t know he could sound that powerful, that commanding. It… Unnerved him. 

“We are going as fast as we can, my lord,” she stammered, voice barely above a whisper, “but without our grace, we cannot do things as fast as we used to.”

Lucifer folded his arms in mock thought, raising an eyebrow characteristically. “Not enough grace, hmm?” He drawled, tapping his foot on the ground, “I wonder what it feels like to have your grace stolen from you… oh, wait! I don’t have to wonder,  _ you’ve  _ stolen  _ my  _ grace way before I took any of yours! Isn’t that just perfect, the way things work themselves out?”

Jack looked wanted to look away, but he knew that anything less than eye contact would arouse suspicion.  _ Wait, what am I doing?  _ He tried to snap himself out of things,  _ This is my destiny! This is what I chose to do, to save my family and mankind. I was born to be the heir, I cannot lose sight of that. _

Suddenly, confidence fueling him to push forwards, he glared at his father, eyes flaring red whilst gripping Anna possessively. “Go.” He order.  _ Ordered.  _ Not asked, not pleaded, but  _ commanded.  _ “She is  _ mine.” _

__ And just like that, they were on the same level. It was as if a switch flipped, and Jack could finally communicate with his father the way he communicated with the world. Lucifer must’ve been alone for a long, long time, because the look he got on his face when he realized that someone else had truly stepped into his world was priceless. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and then, he did not regard his son like he used to. He didn’t look at him with pity and amusement and moderate interest. He looked at him with  _ respect.  _ They were now on equal footing, and Jack knew the ball was in his court. 

Lucifer didn’t speak with words, rather his body language said it all. His shoulders hunched slightly, head not held as high, eyes dimmed to a more controlled level of fire as he turned and left. A sign of respect. A sign of trust. 

Jack did his best to contain himself, taking measured breaths as he came down from his high of dominance.  _ Where did that come from?  _ He thought dazedly, amazed at the strength within him. Had it been there all along? Had he just never used it?

As soon as Lucifer was gone, he looked back down to Anna, going to console her and apologize for the act he’d put on. He paused, however, when he saw the expression on her face. She was staring at him in awe, pure shock and disbelief. 

“What?” He whispered hurriedly, “What is it? I’m sorry if I-”

“You have it.” She interrupted, a smile beginning to blossom across her face, “You’re the one.”

Jack frowned in confusion, eyebrows knitting together. “What do I have?” He asked, “What do you mean?”

Anna took his hands in hers, grasping them tightly whilst holding his gaze. “You have the power to free us,” she whispered in a forbidden tone, “it’s  _ you!  _ There have been rumors that Hell will be tamed by a conqueror begotten by his sire’s blood. None of us believed it, there hasn’t been a nephilim born in millennium, but here you are!”

Jack licked his lips hesitant, reluctant to burst the hope that Anna had. He doubted that he was any conqueror, but he knew in the depths of his soul that he would free them.  _ I’m sure father will understand,  _ he thought to himself assuredly. The unthought of and unspoken words lingered in the room, ‘or I will make him’. 

“Listen to me,” he said quickly, “when the demon who has the keys comes to me tonight, I’ll take them and keep them hidden. I can’t give them to you right away, or else Father will get suspicious. I’m just starting to gain his trust. In a fortnight, I will get the keys to you, and you will unshackle yourselves and get your power back.”

Anna frowned nervously, drawing her dress around her shoulders protectively. “How are you going to give us the keys?” She asked lowly, “Someone will see you.”

Jack hopped up from the throne, beckoning her to follow as he rushed to the loose brick in the wall. The brick that had led him to discover the one thing that would change everything. “This,” he said, showing her how the piece of stone came dislodged before putting it back, “I will slide it through here. What is on the other side?”

Anna knelt down carefully, bruised skin making her wince as she rested on the hard floor. She peered through cautiously, brown eyes searching as she watched the scene before her. She drew back quickly, replacing the brick and praying that it wouldn’t be noticeably different. “It is the foundation line,” she said softly, “where we go to build the base of the structures.”

Jack lit up. “Perfect, then when you go get in line, I will just place it in your hand.”

Anna’s face fell slightly, eyes wide in fear. “I don’t work in the foundations,” she whispered shakily, “women are on the east wing. We’re not allowed to go here.” 

Jack pursed his lips, eyes narrowed as he searched for a solution. “Do you know anyone that does?” He asked, “Anyone who will keep our secret? They have to take the keys, but they can’t tell a soul until later, when you pass them around amongst yourselves and have enough power to overtake the demons.”

Anna frowned in thought, racking her brain until she beamed ever so slightly. “Ezekiel,” she said hopefully, “my brother. He is trustworthy and kind, he will take them from you.”

Jack hesitated, unsure. This was a life or death situation here, and he’d never even met this Ezekiel. If he turned out to be a traitor, they’d all be in deep trouble. He needed more time to gain his father's trust, just a little bit longer to cultivate that relationship that had just now begun to grow. It was a heavy obligation he was placing on Anna. 

“If you have any doubts about him-“ he started. 

“I don’t,” Anna cut him off, eyes determined yet fearful, “he  _ will  _ understand.” 

Jack signed, swallowing his nerves and nodding. He had no other choice but to trust in Anna’s judgement. “Ok.” He said quickly, “I will slip it outside in a fortnight after the souls are counted. Tell him to be waiting.” 

Anna nodded affirmatively, something akin to hope beginning to take root in her. “Jack,” she whispered, still holding his hands tightly, “If for some reason, something happens and we never see eachother again,” 

“Anna, stop-“

“I want you to know that you can beat him.” 

Jack blinked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?” He asked. 

“You can defeat Lucifer,” She entreated, grasping his hands tightly, “you can take control.” 

Jack felt his stomach drop, conflicting feelings bouncing around in his head like a ringing bell. He still didn’t know what to make of his father- the evidence of horrible things was mounting against him, yet he still shone with a bright light that jack simply couldn’t ignore. He was, after all, his father. He didn’t know how to feel about conquering him and taking his place as the keeper of hell.

“You are heir to the firstborn son of the creator,” she whispered fiercely, “blood of old Eden and son of the first archangels. You were  _ born to rule.”  _


	39. To Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe pay a visit to Charlie, and find a way to get what they need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry for the update lag, school has started and I’m behind on my writing! Please please review and leave your comments, I read every one!

Charlie was one of the Winchester brother’s closest friends, and Sam can remember the heartache they experienced after losing her. She was like a sister they never had, kind and caring and smarter than anyone he’d ever known. Her death had hit Dean particularly hard, considering that he was the most protective of her. Being able to see the Other Charlie was bittersweet, just like the rest of their family. They looked like them, they sounded like them, they even acted like them… But they  _ weren’t  _ them. 

“We’re going to meet up with Charlie,” Sam told Dean, grabbing his jacket off the hook of the bunker war room. Since the other world survivors had crossed the border, most of them had gone their own ways- Charlie was currently renting an apartment in New York after signing off hunting for good, taking time to enjoy this new earth full of opportunities. 

“You really think she’ll have a clue about any of this Sheol stuff?” Dean asked, taking a swig of beer from his glass. Cas and Gabriel were still refusing to talk to each other, and the tension between them after Duma’s death was beginning to grate on the WInchester’s nerves.

Sam shrugged. “It’s better than nothing,” he murmured, “besides, we need all the help we can get.”

Dean huffed a mirthless laugh, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah,” he scoffed, “what with the holy brothers here having their little standoff.” 

Sam sighed deeply, trying to contain an eyeroll. He could tell Dean’s deflection tactics from a mile away- his brother was clearly still apprehensive about letting the world know of his relationship with Cas. A part of him felt like he should be hurt that his older brother wouldn’t talk to him about this, but Sam knew deep down that this had nothing to do with him- Dean always struggled with emotions, despite Sam’s many reassurances that it was ok to express them. He just wasn’t a touchy feely kind of guy, and often, Sam ended up having to make the first move. He didn’t mind helping his brother- he’d do anything for Dean, even if it annoyed the hell out of the older Winchester. 

“Just so you know,” he said earnestly, quietly, “I’m happy for you and Cas.”

The older man balked suddenly, eyes widening in a flurry of emotions. Fear, frustration, confusion…  _ fear.  _ “W-What, I never-”

“ _ Dean, _ ” Sam cut off his stammering, placing a steady hand on his shoulder while looking at him with gentle eyes, “I’m happy for you.”

Dean must’ve seen the genuineness in his brother’s eyes, because the fear of rejection immediately receded from his face, like waves from the tide. Because in Dean’s life, the one thing he feared most of all, even above death, was Sam’s rejection. He could deal with Hell, he could deal with shame from everybody else. But he could never deal with his little brother not being proud of him. And to know that he  _ was,  _ even now, was an invaluable gift.  _ Dammit, quit being such a girl,  _ he chided himself. He swallowed thickly, allowing the tiniest of smiles to tug at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Sammy.” He said roughly, voice just barely above a whisper. 

A familiar roar broke the silent moment they were sharing, sounding loud and echoing from outside the bunker. Sam knew it by heart now, could pick up on each croon and tone of the growls. It was its own language entirely, but he was getting the hang of it. The rhythmic  _ swooshing  _ sound of wings beating against the air caused some of the windows to rattle in their panes, and the ground quaked momentarily as the taloned feet touched the earth.

He smirked at Dean, loading his gun before tucking it away in his jacket pocket. “Gotta go,” he proclaimed, “Gabe doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” 

Dean chuckled dryly, letting his head fall back in amusement. “I swear to god, that dude is the biggest-”

“Bye, Dean!” Sam interrupted before he could even finish that sentence that would make him blush, rushing out of the bunker to meet Gabriel in the front field. 

The dragon was in his visible form, unsure of who would happen upon them and not wanting to blind anybody. His wings rustled as the wind blew through the crevices between each giant feather, flight panels glimmering amber in the sunlight. His skin rippled with pure muscle, strong and sinewy so as to be able to fly high and for long distances. 

He chirred happily when he saw Sam, mouth opening and closing slightly in the way that it did when he greeted a familiar friend. Those involuntary chirps and whistles were emanating from him now, causing Sam to suppress a smile that was bursting to get out. There was nothing cuter than an enormous, powerful dragon that sounded like a happy parakeet.

_ “Let’s get going, Samsquatch,”  _ Gabriel chuffed, leaning his left shoulder down to the ground so that the human could climb up,  _ “we’re taking the scenic route.” _

Sam laughed slightly at that, grasping the scales tightly as he lifted himself up onto the back of the dragon, “Scenic route?” He asked, “We need to get there fast, not go leaf watching.” 

_ “You doubt me too much, kiddo!”  _ Gabe protested, circling around awkwardly on his hooked elbows in preparation to take off,  _ “I can do both. There’s a little gap between the space time continuum. We can be there instantly and still take it all in.” _

Sam opened his mouth to tell him that they didn’t have to do anything too fancy, but before he could get a chance to reply, he felt his stomach do a flip in the way that it always did when they took to the sky- terrifying, freeing, and exhilarating all at once. The force of gravity pulled at him with vigor as he gripped onto the dragon’s spines, wind rushing through his hair and ruffling his clothes as they swept over miles of forested ground. He was beginning to get confused, however, because after only five minutes in, he began to see things that weren’t even remotely near Kansas. Roads that stretched over mountains and hills with cars that looked like ants from their height, golden tree tops that were slowly turning the colors of fall, and huge rocky ledges that towered and cut into the sky. At one point, he thought he could see the ocean- but before he could get a better look, they were standing on a sidewalk, surrounded by Manhattan’s skyscrapers and roadside stands. 

“Wow,” Sam breathed, turning to look at Gabriel, “you just did that?”

Gabe wore that grin he always got from impressing humans with his magic tricks, the one that stretched his lips and made his eyes twinkle. “You better believe it.” 

The hunter shook his head in amusement, trying to school his expression. He never could stop himself from smiling at his angel’s joy in self-praise. “Whatever- we need to find Charlie before it’s too late. Her apartment is on 44th street, I hope she’s still home.” 

Gabriel huffed sarcastically, folding his arms as he followed him down the street. “Please, it’s only New York City… What could she possibly be doing?” He joked.

“I don’t know,” Sam humored him, “getting a life? Taking some time to settle down after being prisoner in a world run by Michael?” 

Gabriel shivered at those words, the memories of that awful place threatening to come back to him. A world run by his now dead older brother… the older brother who he  _ killed. That thing wasn’t Mikha’el,  _ he reminded himself coldly, recalling those dead eyes that were so unlike the brother he once adored,  _ no, not even close.  _ It was a shell, an imposter, a demented reflection of the real Michael. And even he was now lost forever. Gabriel hadn’t yet voiced his thoughts to Sam, but a gnawing feeling had been eating away at him ever since they defeated Other Michael and returned to reality. He couldn’t even make out what it was, but something inside him kept insisting that his siblings were alive. Logically, he knew this was impossible. No angel could have survived the fall, and every day he thanked whoever was still controlling fate that Cas had been spared. Castiel was his last living brother- at least, the last one alive who cared for him. No, they were all dead. But still, something unknown kept tugging at him, small and far away, insisting that they were still alive. He couldn’t explain it if his life depended on it, and chalked it up to him having trouble dealing with the immense grief of losing his family.  _ Just my fucking luck,  _ he thought dismally,  _ that I had to be the only angel created with the innate ability to feel. Why couldn’t I have been a stone cold bastard like Raphael?  _

“Gabe!” Sam’s voice shook him from his reverie, snapping his head up to look at the human, “What are you doing? I’ve been talking to you for like, two minutes!”

Gabriel quickly schooled his expression, pursing his lips and forcing a smile. “Just thinking, kiddo.” He replied, “Everything’s fine.”

Sam gave him a look that clearly said, “ _ I don’t believe you _ ”, but didn’t push him on it.

Gabriel almost cursed in surprise when he realized that he had spaced out long enough to forget that they had walked to Charlie’s apartment, climbed the two flights to her room, and were standing outside the door. He had a dangerous talent for getting lost in his own mind.

Sam reached out and knocked, hoping that she was still home. Time was running out for them to get Jack back, and he could tell by Castiel’s constant dimmed demeanor and gloomy aura that being without his son was taking its toll. He had been chosen to be the boys father, after all, and he took that role seriously. Sam and Dean had been reassuring him over and over again since everything started that he didn’t fail, that it wasn’t his fault- but they both knew Cas didn’t believe them. 

The door opened with a startling creak to reveal a surprised looking Charlie, eyes widening at the sight of Sam and the archangel. “Sam?” She almost gasped, “What are you doing here?”

Sam gave her a weak smile, but beneath that one could spot his expression of confusion. “Hey, Charlie… Didn’t you get any of my texts? I sent, like, four.” 

The girl frowned, eyebrows knitting together in bewilderment. “What’s a text?” She asked, puzzled. 

It was then that Sam’s stomach did a sort of flip flop, as he realized that they lived without a lot of modern technology in the apocalypse world. This Charlie had probably never even heard of a cell phone, much less how they work. He had been unknowingly texting Charlie’s old number this entire time- the  _ real  _ Charlie. He’d been texting a corpse. It was a cold, stark reminder that they were two different individuals.

Quickly pulling himself together, Sam shook his head to rid himself of that disturbing notion and forced himself to look nonchalant. “Nothing,” he murmured, “but we do need to talk to you. Can we come in?”

The Other Charlie smiled, gesturing for them to enter. “Sure,” she replied, “although I have to warn you, I’m still learning how this whole ‘decorating’ thing works. I’ve never really live with anything except the bare essentials.” 

They stepped inside to the small but cozy apartment, a few plain ornaments hanging from the ceiling like stringed lights, a small sofa, and warding painted all along the walls. It was basically an excerpt of the bunker, but more personal. 

“Wow, talk about a fixer upper.” Gabriel mused exasperatedly, leaning up against the granite countertop.

“Gabe!” Sam scolded lowly, turning back to Charlie, “Listen, the reason we came is because we have a problem. Jack made a deal with Lucifer, and now he’s stuck as next in line for the king of Hell. We need to know how we can speak to a dead angel who knows how to help us. His name is Ezekiel.” 

Charlie’s face darkened noticeably at the mention of a dead angel, her smile disappearing and a shadow cast across her face. “The Sheol isn’t meant for humans to meddle with Sam, he’s dangerous.” 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to keep his temper cool with the little amount of sleep he had in him. That’s when he caught on to what she actually said. “Wait,” he said slowly, “what do you mean, ‘he’?” How could Charlie know about the Gatekeeper? Even Gabe barely knew of him. 

Charlie sighed softly, a disturbed look on her face as though she was remembering something troubling. “It’s really more of an ‘it’ than a him, but… The closest thing I can relate it to is a reaper. You know those, right? It’s like a reaper, only way,  _ way  _ more powerful. I’ve only seen its shadow a couple of times.”

Gabriel balked at that, eyes wide in shock. “That’s impossible,” he muttered, “not even angels can look at the gatekeeper, you’d have died in a nanosecond. How did you even see it?”

“I said its  _ shadow, _ ” Charlie emphasised, “and in a world at war by angels, a lot of them die. Michael’s armies would lose hundreds, if not thousands of angels a day. The Sheol would always come to collect their souls from their vessels in person, since Michael sealed off any and all portals to heaven or the Empty. I killed one of his enforcers once, an angel who was about to smite me, and it came to take it back to wherever they go when they die. I hid, but I could see the shadow it cast on the wall. It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Horrifying?” Sam supplied dryly, trying to force back the memories of the terror he felt when Lucifer had revealed his true form. Thankfully, Gabe had erased the raw recollection, but the memories of fear still remained. 

So, it surprised him, to say the least, when Charlie actually looked  _ offended  _ at that. “No!” She protested, “No, Sam, it was beautiful. In a weird, alien kind of way. It was peaceful, almost kind… it took every soul into its hands like a mother would cradle her own child. Even the most horrible foot soldiers who killed anyone that opposed Michael, it would make sure that they were safe. And if anything tried to stop it, it would just turn around and stare at them, and they’d… They’d burst into flames.” 

Sam tried his hardest to picture any sort of creature that fit the description she’d just given, but he was drawing all blanks. He was too convinced that nothing could compare to Gabriel, who was the very essence of beauty and bravery and kindness. He could only imagine terror at watching someone burn alive just by looking at this reaper-like thing. 

“Yeah, well, we need to talk to him pronto.” Gabriel said firmly, arms folded, “Do you know any spells for that?”

Charlie smiled softly, eyes apologetic. “I  _ do  _ know a lot of spells,” she admitted, “but Sheol is beyond that. It’s beyond any spell or magic that ever has been or ever will be. The only way you can see him is if you’re there when an angel dies. And even then, it’s an unsure deal. He can take up to three days to come and collect the soul from that vessel.”

Sam and Gabriel looked at each other knowingly, the same thought having crossed both their minds. Duma. She had only died yesterday. If they went back and waited, they might have a chance at catching the gatekeeper coming to take her soul. That is, if he hadn’t already. 

“Wait, wait, wait a minute!” Charlie exclaimed suddenly, raising an eyebrow at the both of them, “What are you two planning? You do know that you’ll die if you look at him, right? Even you.” She said, pointing at Gabriel.

The archangel gave her a mix of a scoff and a smirk. “You don’t need to look at somebody to talk to them.” He said flippantly, “He’ll listen to me, we’re pretty solid.”

Charlie frowned at that before looking disapprovingly at Sam, “Sam, please,” she said, voice full of concern, “you’re one of my closest friends, don’t do this. I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Sam gave her a soft smile, marveling at the similarity between her and the real Charlie. They were both kind, caring, and the best friend anyone could ever ask for. “Don’t worry,” he said gently, “we’ll be careful, I promise. Thanks for your help, Charlie.” 

“Sam, wait-” Charlie went to stop him, but before she could, they had both vanished. She stood alone in her apartment, hoping that her worry would ebb soon. And even if it didn’t, she’d be ok. She grew up in a world where worry and grief were commonplace. 

Gabriel flew high above the clouds, delving through space and time, as he and Sam tried to make a plan to wait for Sheol tonight.


	40. Sheol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel wait for the Sheol, and make a shocking discovery. All is not what it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH, GUYS, SEASON 14 PREMIERED LAST NIGHT!!!!! to be honest, I couldn't even watch the full thing due to overly sensitive feels that were literally going crazy. Let me know what you think in the comments! Thank you so much for your continued support!

“So, we’re just going to sit up all night and wait for this thing to come?” Dean repeated incredulously, staring at Sam like he had lost his mind. 

The younger Winchester sighed irritatedly, frowning at his older brother. “For the last time, dude,  _ you won’t be here.  _ It’ll just be me and Gabe.” 

Dean scoffed mockingly, folding his arms in resignation. “Right, right, of course. We gotta limit the casualties, anyway.”

“Would you quit whining?” Gabriel muttered from across the room, absentmindedly mixing himself a cocktail of gin and sangria, “No one’s gonna die. The Sheol is the least violent thing in the universe.”

“Have you literally lost your mind?” Dean balked, talking more to Sam than the archangel, “I think you have seriously gone insane. You’re actually  _ considering  _ this?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Sam felt like he was going to scream if he had to convince Dean one more time, “We won’t even look at it, Gabriel will do all the talking, and then it’ll be over.” 

“You’ve been around the block too many times to know that nothing is ever really over for us,” Dean said seriously, looking his brother in the eyes, “what’s your plan for when this thing asks for a deal? What are you going to do when he wants something in return? Nothing’s free, Sammy, you know that.”

Sam saw straight through the many layers of anger and frustration, right down to the fear his brother had for him. He softened slightly, a smile imperceptibly tugging at the corner of his lips, “I promise, nothing’s going to happen. For once, it actually  _ is  _ just a talk. Besides, if asking a few questions is going to get us closer to bringing Jack home, I’m gonna do it. It’s the least I can do to get him back.” 

Dean winced internally at that, the wave of guilt he had threatening to consume him. He wondered what Sam would think if he knew about his view of Jack, what he would do if he knew the truth. The truth, in fact, was that Dean would leave the kid behind in Hell a million times over if it meant saving Sam. He hated himself for it and would never say it aloud, but deep down, he knew that if Jack and Sam were hanging off the edge of a dock, and he only had one life preserver to throw, he’d throw it to Sam 100 out of 100 times. He’d never put his younger brother in danger, even if it meant Jack’s death. 

Schooling himself into a stoic expression and forcing his uncomfortable thoughts away, Dean swallowed thickly and nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he murmured, before sauntering out to the impala to join the others. Sam and Gabriel had been very clear about the plan when they got back- no one was to leave or enter the bunker until sunrise the next morning. They were going to wait near the ashes and angel blade for the Sheol to come.

Cas took one last look at the ash covered blade that was his sister, eyes somber and darkened. He saw the good that was in Duma, struggling to fight the corruption. He loved his sister. He loved all of his siblings, of course, but Duma and he had a special relationship. Even before the creation of mankind, she was his wiser older sister, the gentle and beautiful balance that heaven needed. Even after he’d caused the fall, he refused to join the others in a manhunt against him, rallying for his defense. 

And now, she, too was numbered among the dead. He couldn’t say he forgave Gabriel just yet, but as the days went by, he replayed the fight over and over again in his mind. And the more he remembered, the more his stomach sank with the realization that maybe, maybe his older brother was right. Maybe she wouldn’t have stopped until one or all of them were dead. Maybe the last flame of good in Duma had died sooner than he’d realized. 

He couldn’t deny that it was a possibility.

“Be careful, Sam.” He said gruffly, turning to leave, when Gabriel stopped him.

“Wait,” He exclaimed, causing the younger angel to look at him in surprise. They hadn’t spoken since dumas death yesterday. Gabriel gingerly picked up the angel blade, reaching it out towards Cas with an unreadable look, “she won’t need this in Sheol. I think… I think she’d want you to have it.” 

Cas felt his throat constrict, and when he looked into his brothers eyes, he saw nothing but sorrow and genuineness. The angel blade was still outstretched towards him, an offering of peace. He suddenly remembered when he was still a fledgling, and Duma had play fought with him in the garden of Eden, teaching him to fly, giving him advice… always giving.  _ She probably would want me to have it _ , he thought dazedly, staring at handle. Hesitantly, he reached out and took it, the weight of the steel feeling right in his palm. It felt like protection, it felt like home.

“Thanks.” He said roughly, not daring to meet his brother’s gaze, before vanishing from the room, leaving both the archangel and the youngest Winchester all alone.  _ God, I hope Dean talks to him,  _ Sam thought sadly as he watched the angel leave. Castiel’s sadness had been palpable lately, and his unrelenting depression was beginning to affect everybody. He only hoped that the connection his brother had to their friend would ease his pain.

“So, Sammykins, what do you wanna do while we wait?” Gabriel exclaimed loudly to the empty room, leaning against the post of the doorway, “Cards? Rock paper scissors? Gin?”

Sam huffed at that, taking his place on the ground behind the war table, hidden from sight of the Sheol, “You really want to be drinking while we’re waiting for this thing?” He prodded.

Gabriel shrugged, taking another sip of his homemade concoction, “Sure- after all, I’ve never heard of an archangel getting drunk before.” He mused, “The one downside to this whole ‘eternal power’ thing is an inability to get wasted.”

Sam rolled his eyes, his foot tapping absentmindedly against the floor in the way it always did when he was nervous, “You’re unbelievable. You should get down here, too, you know, what if it comes and you accidentally look at it?” 

Gabriel exaggerated a long suffering sigh before going to join his human on the floor, legs curling up as he sat with his back to the table. “I’ve seen him before, Sam,” he said quietly, “we know each other.” 

Sam swallowed thickly, heart skipping a beat as Gabriel mentioned his near death experience while being a prisoner of asmodeus. The entire experience still haunted Sam, the thought that Gabriel had been suffering that entire time and he never knew it, never tried to help. It ate him alive inside. “... you know that if I had any inkling you were still alive, I would’ve looked for you, right?” He whispered shakily, unable to look at the angel, “Even back then, I would’ve searched heaven and hell to find you if I knew.” 

Gabriel paused, a beat of silence stretching between them. ‘Even back then’ meant before they were friends, before Sam even liked him at all, back when the only knowledge he had of the archangel was the pain he’d put him through for the mystery spot. 

Sam felt the gentle pull of grace at his soul. “I know, kiddo.” He murmured quietly, “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Sam wanted to say more, wanted to tell him how much he missed him when he was gone, how glad he was that he wasn’t dead, but there weren’t any words in the English dictionary to convey the right meaning. So, they simply sat side by side on the floor in silence, taking in each other’s company as the suns light grew dimmer outside. By the time they heard the noise, the sun was just a tiny sliver of glowing red falling over the horizon. 

It wasn’t a loud sound, more like a clatter of tin or something. But it was distinctive and it was there. Sam jolted upright, heart thudding in his chest a million miles an hour. The bunker felt eerily quiet, and he knew the Sheol was here. Sam didn’t dare peek at the real thing, but the shadow that was cast on the opposite wall was enough to shock him into submission. It was huge and shapeless and jagged all at once, hunched over like an old man but strong and vaguely humanoid like Gabriel’s true form. It teetered on the very edge of existence itself, almost like it was one tier away from not being real. 

Gabriel lifted a finger to his lips, signaling for him to be quiet, before slowly standing up with his eyes firmly shut. This was it. 

“I need to ask you something,” Gabriel spoke aloud in enochian, his voice echoing through the bunker, “please, don’t leave just yet.”

Sam held his breath as a beat of silence stretched out, terrified that the thing had left before they could get any information, until he heard it speak. 

“I’ve been expecting you, Gabriel,” it said in a whispered tone, more like howling wind than a voice at all, “very well, I shall stay for a moment. But be quick, your sisters soul grows weary and I must take her to rest.” 

Gabriel swallowed thickly, feeling a pang of guilt stab at his chest. A part of him wanted to beg for Duma to stay, but he knew that wasn’t what they needed. “I have to speak to Ezekiel.” He said.

The Sheol paused, cradling dumas soul in the folds of his robe whilst he stared at the archangel. “Hmm- and how am I to assist you with this?” He asked.

Gabriel frowned, eyelids remaining shut, “You need to wake him up for me- just for a few minutes, I promise. We need his help to free the nephilim from Hell.” 

Sheol hummed contemplatively, tilting his head at the archangel. “Ah, yes, Lucifer’s child. Well, I would love to help, Gabriel, but Ezekiel is not with me.” 

Both Sam and Gabriel froze at that, minds trying to wrap around that statement. What was he talking about? “Y-yes he is, remember?” Gabriel protested in a stammering voice, “when I was on the brink of death from asmodeus, you  _ told me  _ he said hello!” 

Sheol laughed, well, it  _ sounded  _ like a laugh. “You are a precious soul, sweet child.” it cooed almost. 

“But I heard you!” Gabriel insisted almost frantically, “I know what you said, you told me he sent his regards, and  _ you can’t tell a lie!” _

“I do not lie,” Sheol said pointedly, “your brother Ezekiel  _ does  _ pray for your wellbeing and safety, quite frequently, I might add.”

“So you-”

“I never said he was with me.” Sheol interrupted quietly, and at those words, Gabriel felt his stomach drop and his heart sink. He was right. Thinking back on it now, the angel had just assumed his brother was in the empty since most of them died during the fall… But if he wasn’t with Sheol, and he wasn’t dead, then… 

“Where is he?” Gabriel asked in a trembling voice, resisting the urge to open his eyes.  _ This can’t be possible, he has to be dead, they’re all dead, you saw them fall,  _ he repeated to himself over and over again.

There was a long pause of quiet, and Gabriel almost didn’t think Sheol was going to answer, before he said, “He is in Hell.” 

Sam and Gabe were in disbelief, stunned into silence. Hell? Ezekiel? What?! Nothing the Sheol was saying made any sense- everyone knew that most of heaven’s angels died years ago during the Fall, it was a known fact… Wasn’t it?

“Why is he in Hell?” Gabriel demanded, asking questions that the Sheol could not be indirect towards, knowing he had to play his cards right. The Sheol could only stay for a couple of minutes longer before he would return to the Empty with Duma, and they needed to know what he was talking about  _ now. _

“Your brother, Lucifer, enslaved all the angels as they fell towards earth during the great Fall.” Sheol said, “This saved their lives, but has kept them captive in the underworld for years now as they are rebuilding Hell. Lucifer seeks to create a more powerful fortress for his son to rule, and has been using their grace to fuel his endeavor. He faked your siblings deaths so you would not go looking for them and has been hiding them ever since.”

Silence. Complete, utter silence. This couldn’t be true, it had to be fake. They couldn’t have been this oblivious for so long, they must’ve seen something, this had to be a lie…  _ But the Sheol cannot tell a lie.  _

“I can speak with you no longer, Gabriel,” Sheol murmured in his hushed voice, “I wish you well in the battles to come.” 

And with that, a great sweep of wind blew through the room. Sheol was gone, Duma’s soul safe in his arms as he whisked her away to eternal sleep, and Sam and Gabriel stood alone in an empty room. 

When Gabriel finally opened his eyes, he couldn’t help the tears that were in them.


	41. Long Live The King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a game changer, guys! Let's just say, it's time for one badass coronation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! This was a big chapter for the story, but I think it was about the right time- please please PLEASE leave your reviews at the bottom of the page! I read all of them like Gabriel eats candy :D :) [_(-3-)_]

Jack supposed that the thing that unnerves him the most was his own lack of fear. In the coming days before he and Anna planned to free the slaves, he thought he would be terrified- he was, afterall, about to single handedly defy his father’s orders, a crime which would certainly warrant his death. But instead of dread squeezing his stomach, his confidence continued to grow. The words Anna had whispered to him before she left rang repeatedly throughout his mind; “You were born to rule.”. And maybe he was naive, maybe he was crazy, but something inside him began to believe those words. It wasn’t a thought, really, it was more like a  _ feeling,  _ something indescribable that he could sense in the depths of his soul. He wasn’t afraid of taking control. 

But the more he interacted with his father as the days passed, the heavier his heart grew with sorrow. The light that he once saw in him was fading, slowly but surely, and he was beginning to see Lucifer for what he truly was. But that wasn’t even what saddened him the most- what was truly  _ tragic,  _ what made him want to cry at night, was the fact that his father  _ really did _ used to be good. He was kind and courageous and loving, everything that Jack wanted to be. The boy could see it in the lingering light of the hollow reflection, could feel it in the grace that he shared with him. His father used to be a  _ real angel.  _ And he never got to know him, never got talk with him, never even got to meet him. He wept when he realized that his real father died long, long before he was born. What carried on in his image was not even a shell anymore, but a distorted, demented abomination of the Darkness’s Mark and corruption. His father, the one who he’d been seeing all this time through rose colored glasses, was gone.  _ What would he think of me?  _ Jack would often wonder,  _ Would he be proud of me? Would we have anything in common? Did he like the same things I do?  _ All he had to hold onto were stories from Gabriel and Castiel,  _ his family.  _ The ones he was trying save. And now, he knew what he had to do. He wasn’t afraid. Sad, yes- but afraid? No. 

It was late that night when he retrieved the keys from Mallory. The demon had come into the throneroom with her usual platter of wine and the finest foods and luxuries known to man. She cooed and fretted over him in a way that made Jack both amused and uneasy- he didn’t sense any real malice in her, but she wasn’t at all to be trusted. Getting the key was easy- well, not easy by his terms, but easy enough. During his time spent in Hell, Jack had grown well accustomed to navigating the language of sexual pleasure and innuendo. At first he was repulsed by it, afraid of it, and if he was being honest, it still made him ill at ease. But he had to know in order to survive- the demons were constantly indulging themselves and jabbering on about who they bed the night before. Sex was a method of bribery, of sin, of power. It was like a language of its own, used to tease and reward and torment. He supposed he would have liked to have his ‘first time’ have been with a girl he loved, but he quickly dismissed the thought. The first woman he bed after pretending with Anna was Mallory. He knew that he and his father were now on solid ground, but he had to make sure that any remaining suspicions Lucifer had of him were fully eradicated- he had to submerge himself in the culture of the place he was heir to rule. 

That night in the throne room, he made love to the demon with more passion than usual, ensuring that she was distracted, before swiping the keys from her belt as he undressed her. They rocked with the rhythm of one another, basking in the physical pleasure and passion that threatened to swallow them both. He kept the keys fully hidden from sight, and when Mallory finally left, happy and with a seductive smile on her face, he closed the doors of the room. He channeled his grace to make sure that no one was watching him, and when he was confident that he was alone, he scrambled down to the brick in the wall. 

Taking a deep breath, he pried the stone away and nearly gasped when he saw the flesh of an outstretched hand, dirt stained palm open as if it was waiting for him. He inched forward cautiously, knowing that a mistake now would be fatal. “Ezekiel?” He whispered almost imperceptibly. 

There was no reply, but the index finger of the vessel twitched affirmatively. 

“Don’t start until you see the smoke.” He whispered firmly,  _ he had to make sure Ezekiel heard this part,  _ “Do you understand?”

The index finger twitched again, and knowing that this was it, Jack placed the small black key in the palm. The rough, labor-calloused hand curled around the object, hiding it from view before quickly withdrawing and disappearing into the line of slaves that were painstakingly laying down bricks of foundation.

Now, it was his turn. He made sure he had everything ready before making the call, the sheepskin bags of holy oil hidden beneath his clothing and masked with his grace. He couldn’t afford getting caught with the smuggled liquid- holy oil, the only thing that meant certain death for any angel, arch or not, was forbidden in Hell. Jack resorted to making his own, having remembered reading a passage in one of the Bunker’s older books on the words to recite when blessing any type of object. He’d stolen any and all oil he could find, from fuel for the torches that lined the walls of the underground tunnels, to scraps of grease that coated the floor. He was ready.

“Zachary.” He commanded, and within seconds, his least favorite demon appeared before his throne. 

“How can I be of service, your majesty?” The man asked, bowed deeply with his face towards the ground. 

Jack schooled his best regal face, shifting nonchalantly on the throne, “I wish to speak with my father alone in his chambers. Tell him.” He demanded.

Zachary nodded curtly before disappearing again, and Jack didn’t wait for a reply. He knew the answer would be yes. You cannot disobey your future king. He closed his eyes briefly, whisking himself through the immense tunnels of the underworld, before arriving in his father’s chamber. The royal throne room was no different than his own, with the exception of Lucifer and the absence of a few pieces of furniture. He never felt at ease in his father’s throne room, and during the few times he had visited, he always felt like he was being watched.

He opened his eyes, looking to see his father with that grin that made his heart ache. He wondered if it was the same grin his father had when he was alive-  _ maybe it was still similar? Maybe we have the same smile.  _ Probably not, but the thought gave him comfort. 

“Heyya, sport.” Lucifer murmured, leaning back casually in his chair, “What’s up?”

Jack followed what he had rehearsed in his mind for the past two weeks now, and frowned slightly in annoyance as he looked at the guarding demons. “Father, can we speak  _ alone?”  _ He hissed more towards the demons than anything, “I need to tell you something important.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he obliged and waved the guards away. “You heard him, boys, get lost.” 

The demons looked slightly surprised, but vanished instantly nonetheless. The room was quiet and they were alone, the fire bowls and lamp stands that lit the room burned with the occasional snap and crackle in the night.

“What is it?” Lucifer asked, now focusing his attention on his son. 

Jack sighed, beginning to pace the room, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, father,” he began, making sure to keep one foot in front of the other, “and I realized that I don’t know much about Hell itself. The purpose it serves, I mean. Obviously, these past months with you have shown me what it means to rule… But I have to know, as heir, what would the universe be like without it?” 

Lucifer chuckled smoothly, eyeing him with a glimmer of amusement. “You’re a real philosophical gem, aren’t you, kid?” He asked, smirking at the boy who had progressed quicker than he expected. He was, in truth, a prodigy to behold. A living image of him. 

“I don’t think it’s really that philosophical,” Jack tilted his head to the side in thought, “it’s necessary. Imagine, all the damned souls running free without a place to go, the murderers, the rapists, the thieves… the chaos. And when they’ve had enough, when we  _ show them  _ what it  _ really means  _ to do harm, then they break. They repent, and we have to send them to heaven. It takes a strong ruler to maintain such a place.” 

Jack’s stomach turned when he saw his not-father basking in the praise of what he thought his son was saying. He sunned himself in attention, seeking any form of gratification out immediately. This was not his father. This wasn’t even a hollowed out version of his father. It was an imposter, a fraud that dared to walk the earth with the same name as the once beloved angel who conceived him. This was not Heylel. This was Lucifer. 

The locks on the doors clicked shut immediately, and Jack stood in front of his father with a hardened gaze. Lucifer immediately snapped his attention to the locking doors, looking to Jack with a mix of confusion, shock, and suspicion in his eyes. “Jack, what are-”

“You are not Heylel.” He said crisply and clear, his voice hard and nowhere near that of a child's. 

At those words, Lucifer’s eyes widened and the mask of selfishness fell from his face. He stared in shock at his son, anger beginning to boil in his blood at the word. It was his original name, the name his father had given him,  and it was like a curse word. He hadn’t heard it in ages, and hearing it again awakened something primal in him. His eyes flashed a threatening, glowing red. “Watch your mouth.” He said dangerously quiet, but Jack continued to stare at him with an unreadable mask of coldness and indifference. 

“You are a small, wretched imposter of a man.” Jack said lowly, eyes never leaving Lucifer, “You are not fit to lead the underworld.”

The devil stared at him in stunned silence, shoulders tensed as he watched the boy in fury. He was in disbelief at how nonchalantly the boy spoke, like he was completely at ease. No one had talked to him like that in ages. A suffocating silence fell across the room, before Jack continued. 

“But I am,” he said with a certain amount of definiteness to his voice, “so I will.” 

The silence persisted for a few more seconds, before Lucifer finally composed himself and let his cold smirk unfold over his face. He laughed, that raspy, ice cold sound echoing from his vessel’s chest. The tortures he had in mind for the boy were flashing across his mind eagerly, fueled by his anger and rage at being fooled by the brat. “I was right about you,” he said cooly, “you’re too much like your whore of a mother. Weak, pathetic,  _ human.”  _

He waited for Jack to explode at those words, waited for his moment of weakness, but the boy only stared at him with that same, unreadable look of certainty, eyes colder and deader than anything he’d seen in a long time. It infuriated him, the wrath and indignation of being fooled and spoken to by an empty headed kid. His mask and disguise fell away, and he roared loud enough to shake the very gates of Hell. 

“You worthless little fuck!” He spat violently, “Did you really think I meant a single word I said to you?” 

Jack looked slowly towards the fire bowls that were situated on the elegant metal stands, taking a deep breath before grasping the rim of one in his hand. He turned back to his father, taking in the image of him one last time.  _ But this wasn’t him. I know that now. It never was.  _ “You’re not going to speak anymore,” Jack said calmly to the primal thing of mania before him, showing him the holy-oil covered soles of his boots that he walked the entire room with, “... you’re going to die.” 

Lucifer’s face flashed with confusion for a split, fraction of a second, before Jack shoved the fire bowl over, watching the flames ignite as they made contact with the oil-slicked floor. Time seemed to move in slow motion for him as he watched the room grow crowded with tall, flashing flames of holy fire. He refused to look away as he watched the thing that used to be his father scream out in agony as it was devoured by the flames, the archangel’s soul expelling from the vessel before fizzling out and dying, engulfed in the fire that did not discriminate. He watched, until he knew that Lucifer was dead, and felt the warmth creep upon his own skin.

  
  


_ Point of View of the Angels _

 

The demons didn’t have time to worry about the angel slaves unlocking their shackles as the main temple began to burn. 

The angels, who had been chattering excitedly amongst each other, stopped in confusion and alarm when they saw the great billowing clouds of smoke rising from the main throneroom’s temple, the ancient structure that had been built out of the remains of the cage slowly succumbing to the flames that were licking out around the edges.

“Get back!” Some demons commanded gruffly, forcing the crowd away with sharply pointed blades, before another demon cried out, “It’s holy fire!”

The other guards dropped their weapons in favor of running, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the deadly fire that would disintegrate them immediately if it even touched them. For what seemed like hours, the crowd of demons and angels alike simply stared in shock at the now ablaze-temple, all daring to wonder the impossible- Lucifer was... dead? They watched as the tell-tale sign of an angel death, a bright flash of light, illuminated the darkened space, before fizzling away into the flames and going dark once more. 

Then, abruptly, the large doors to the temple swung open, revealing the brightly burning holy fire that was still blistering. The heat that came off of it was intense to say the least, even at the 50 or so yards that they were standing away from it. 

Anna stood at the front of the crowd watching, eyes wide as she waited and then witnessed the impossible. At first, it was just a silhouette- a shadow of a man, walking from the fiery inferno. It came closer and closer, until the crowd was awestruck as they watched the Nephilim emerge from the fire, completely unharmed. The shadows of three sets of wings glowed in the flames behind him, and he stood before the crowd with glowing orange eyes, a living testament to the impossible. 

The demons stared at this being that was strong, stronger than Lucifer ever was, before dropping to their knees and bowing before their new king. Even the most conniving of the demons feared him, submitting to this child that had walked through holy fire, half human and half archangel yet fully unburnt. The hellhounds all howled their submission, echoing loudly like moaning souls in the night. Anna smiled knowingly, and all of the angels stared at one another briefly, before bowing down as well. 


	42. Freed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack takes his place as the rightful heir, and reunions are held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for continuing to read my story- please please PLEASE leave your reviews and recommendations in the comment box below- Also, i'm taking a vote- how many of you would like for me to do a short collection of oneshots devoted to pure sabriel fluff? I realize my story has been lacking in the last few chapters, but more is coming, i promise!!

“I am Jack, firstborn of the Morningstar and the blood of The Creator, heir to the sword the first archangel and the throne of my father,” he shouted loud for the vast crowd to hear, “I  _ am  _ the ruler of Hell. To those of you who like to play games,” he looked pointedly at all of the demons, “this might have interested my father. But I  _ am not  _ my father. Play a game with me, and I will not play back. Hell has one purpose in this universe- to keep the souls of the damned from harming the souls of the innocent. We thrive in the dead, so we may show justice to those who failed in the living. There will be  _ no more  _ corruption, no more unnecessary torture, no more deals and no more unauthorized visits to earth. I am putting my realm back where it belongs, and I intend to keep it there.” He notes the cowering demons, some aghast at the prospect of never wreaking havoc again, and he raised an eyebrow. “Instead,” He said, “I will offer you something that my father never did- a choice. Stay with me and return Hell to its true and only purpose,” he turned his head back to the burning building, “or die.” 

The demons shut their mouths instantly, silenced by one gaze at the blazing inferno of holy oil that would burn them to a crisp. Jack knew the result- they were too selfish of creatures to rebel. Their ability to live was most important to them, no matter what the cause. 

The young king turned to the angels, each one staring at him with a mix of hope and fear, dirt streaked faces lit a soft glow by the fire. “Angels,” he announced, “we share the same blood and wield the same grace. I am the nephilim that was rumored.” A murmur spread anxiously through the crowd, eyes widening, and Anna sent Jack a smile of encouragement. “Heaven thinks you are dead- they have for years.” He continued, “... But today, I free you! I  _ command  _ you to take off your shackles and unclip your wings- fly back to heaven and make things right with one another. No more personal vendettas, no more grudges towards the humans,  _ no more ANYTHING!”  _ He shouted, “We have forgotten our purpose, which is to love and be loved- to honor and protect our fathers most precious creations. And I  _ swear to you _ on my own life, that if you get to know humanity like you’ve never before, you  _ will  _ see why The Creator loves them. And you will regret the days when you worked towards their demise.” 

Anna felt a pang of guilt that was palpable course through the crowd, a flurry of emotions flying from angel to angel- guilt, joy, sadness, fear, apprehensive, hope, almost everything they could imagine. They had been slaves for nearly ten years now, tortured and worked to the point of death. They had witnessed countless numbers of horrors since they were taken captive after the fall, and they’d been chipped away to their most basic essences- many of them had long ago let go of their petty disagreements, too desperate and driven by pain to hold on to grudges. Now, all they wanted most was to go home. Whether or not their father was there, they wanted to  _ be together.  _ They longed to fly, to taste the scent of clean air and sunlight once more. But they were constantly reminded of their previous failures, their vendettas towards the humans and their multiple fights, all of which stemmed out of jealousy. Jealous that these beautiful humans were so much more than they were… they were so caught up in their own misery, that they completely forgot about the possibility to being allies, being a  _ family again.  _

“Now, go!” Jack commanded, eyes aglow and voice ringing loud throughout the caverns of Hell, “Go, and tell the world that you’ve returned!” 

There was a great chorus of cheers and rejoicing as the angels shed their bonds, throwing their chains to the ground and stretching out their wings for the first time in what felt like ages. One by one, they bolted upwards, disappearing as they flew towards heaven. No demon even tried to stop them, knowing that the fire was and would always be burning if they attempted to protest. 

Jack felt something deep inside him come to life as he watched his family leave, something ancient and primal. He  _ believed  _ in himself. For the first time in his entire life, he believed he was capable and strong and worthy. When the flames spread to him, the boy was sure that it would be his end. But instead of devouring him, instead of burning alive, he walked out unharmed. It was almost as if it was…  _ God’s  _ doing. As if it was meant to be. He could feel it in his bones, in his heart- he was sure now that he was everything Castiel had told him he was, everything his family encouraged him to be.  _ His family…  _

“Anna,” he called to the angel, rushing down the few steps from the temple before enveloping her in a hug. She embraced him back, holding him close before pulling back and looking at him with pride. 

“You bring honor to Heylel.” she whispered gently, touching his cheek with a level of reverence as she smiled. 

Jack swallowed thickly, smiling back at her as tears threatened to prick at his eyes. “I need you to do something for me,” he told her emphatically, gripping her shoulders, “I need you to find the Winchesters and Castiel. Tell them everything that happened here today- tell them that I’m alright, they’ll be worried about me. But most importantly… tell them to stop looking for me. I know they’ll be searching for ways to get me out of here, but I cannot afford to leave now that I’ve gotten everything under control. And will you… will you tell them I love them? Please?”

Anna’s face fell slightly in sadness and sympathy, and she nodded. “Of course, I will tell them,” she breathed, “I will make sure they know, I promise.”

Jack sighed imperceptibly in relief, hugging her one last time, before watching as she took to the sky in the form of a beautiful, jade colored angel. 

 

* * *

  
  


“So, you’re saying that our siblings are still alive?” Castiel repeated, voice hoarse after hearing what Gabriel had said. 

He and Dean had gotten back just over an hour after the Sheol left, Sam having called as soon as he thought the coast was clear. Gabriel was devastated by the news, completely blindsided, upset, and confused after hearing those impossible words. Everything in Sam’s mind told him that it simply could not be, that the Sheol was lying and that logic was undisputable.  _ Dean and I saw them falling, we watched them die,  _ he kept repeating to himself. By all standards, it should have been a case closed. But seeing his angel break down in tears at the words, Sam knew there was more to this than what met the eye. And if what he said was true, if the Sheol was incapable of lying, then… 

Gabriel had taken off alone shortly after that, transforming into the dragon and sweeping off into the early dawn sky with a pained roar. Sam was tempted to go after him, but decided that Gabriel might need some space now more than anything. Their grace bond didn’t change the fact that they were still two separate entities who needed to be alone every once in a while. Although it was unsettling to be separated from his best friend, Sam kept himself together by focusing on the strong grace wavelengths Gabriel’s soul gave off, letting him know that he was ok and hadn’t wandered too far. 

Sam sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “That’s what the Sheol said… Look, I  _ know  _ this is crazy, but since when is anything in our lives remotely normal? We have to at least consider it as a possibility.” He murmured. 

“ _ I  _ still can’t consider the fact that you let that moron run off without you,” Dean scolded him for the ninth time since they got back and realized Gabriel wasn’t there, “what if something happens to him and you start to die over here, huh?”

Sam glared at his brother, giving him a look that clearly said ‘don’t push it’ whilst Cas resigned himself to slumping against the elder Winchester in defeat. Dean froze slightly at the public display of affection, but did not protest save for the rosy blush on his cheeks. 

“Perhaps it is mocking me for the largest mistake of my life,” Cas said gloomily, “giving me false hope that maybe I  _ didn’t  _ kill my family.”

“Don’t even start this, Cas, we all know that’s not how it went down.” Dean cut off the dangerous train of thought as soon as it began, voice firm and leaving no room for argument.

“Well, then, what are we supposed to believe?” Sam exclaimed in exasperation, “That almost  _ ninety percent  _ of the entire angelic race is still alive? That what we  _ thought  _ changed our lives forever never even happened? We’re talking about  _ nine years  _ of Lucifer fooling us, here! This changes everything!” 

Dean opened his mouth to provide a counter claim, when Rowena came running into the room, eyes wide in terror and screaming unintelligibly. Dean instantly reached for his gun while Sam gripped the witch by her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Rowena, calm down!” He barked, “What the hell is going on?!”

The red head stammered nonsense for a moment before lifting her hand to point towards the door, “I’m bein’ chased by a dead angel!” She squeaked, looking frantically over her shoulder and into the darkness of the outside. 

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, unable to wrap his mind around what she had just said, before Castiel took off into the front yard, trench coat billowing behind him. 

“Cas, wait, it’s dangerous out there!” Dean exclaimed, darting after him with his gun still drawn while Sam and Rowena quickly followed suit. 

Castiel stood frozen, unable to move as he took in the sight before him. His sister, his  _ dead _ sister, stood barefoot on the lawn, clothes ragged and the color of mud. Her eyes were wide as she met his gaze, full of disbelief and hope and a whole mixture of emotions that the angel couldn’t even begin to decipher. At first, he didn’t believe it- the easiest explanation would be some demon in an illusion mask, trying to fool him, but the grace energy signatures she was giving off were unmistakable. Her wings, dimmed and broken, still shone with her ember of angelic light, and her hair was still the color of fire. 

“... Anna?” He whispered, afraid to speak her name aloud, as if it would break the spell they were in and she would fade away. 

The angel took a shaky step towards her brother, a sorrowful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Khastiy’el,” she breathed, a rough laugh escaping her parched throat, “my little brother, how you have grown…” 

Cas shook his head, fear and sadness threatening to choke him where he stood. “It can’t be…”

Anna took another step closer, reaching her hand out ever so slowly until she was touching his cheek, her skin soft and  _ real  _ on his face. “I am here,” she whispered tearfully, still gazing at him like he was the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen, “we are all still here.”

Sam and Dean watched in disbelief from the porch as Cas embraced his sister, and Sam could see his wings curl around her true form, a stunning green deer like figure with the similar four faces of Cas.  _ Gabriel,  _ he called out to the archangel in his mind,  _ Gabriel you need to come back right now. Anna, your sister, is here… Come back, Gabriel. Anna’s here. _

“I thought you were dead forever,” Cas murmured into her shoulder, holding her close, “I’m so sorry… I did this.”

Anna shook her head in denial, pulling back and smiling softly at him through her tears. “You did what you thought was right. That is all any of us can do. I am so proud of you, Khastiy’el.” 

Cas smiled back, eyes till wide with the shock of it all, before Anna frowned and gasped at the person standing before them. 

“... Gavri’el?”


	43. Anna's Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected and much needed family reunion takes place, and Sam and Gabe give us all the feels :) ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody! Hope you are enjoying the story so far! Thank you for your comments and please continue to leave reviews and kudos! (every time you do, gabe gets a hug from sammy and a lollipop).

 

Gabriel’s eyes were wet and red when he saw his sister, shocked and frozen where he stood. Castiel was looking at the both of them anxiously, still holding on to Anna like his life depended on it. Sam’s heart ached as he watched the stages of emotions dance across his angel’s face- anger, fear, sadness, hope, disbelief… His grace was buzzing uncontrollably, shaking like it was getting ready to bounce off the walls. He opened his mouth to say something, but before a single word could escape, they were all silenced by a sudden, deafening  _ boom.  _

Flinching out of instinct, Sam turned his head up to the sky and was suddenly struck by the multitude of angelic voices he heard in his head. It was louder than anything he’d ever know, hundreds of thousands of voices shouting and singing and crying out words that were barely discernible. Some were calling out for each other, as though they were lost and trying to find someone, others were singing hymns older than time itself, and a few were weeping what he could only guess were tears of joy. 

“What the hell…” Dean’s voice trailed off in shock as he stared into the sky, unable to finish his sentence. 

They all turned to see what he was looking at, and words couldn’t describe the sight. Sparks of light, almost like reverse shooting stars, were racing upwards in the night sky, illuminating the darkness as they soared higher and higher. They were angels, but instead of falling, they were  _ flying.  _ Thousands of them were weaving through the air, disappearing into the invisible border where the sky met the heavens. They were returning home. It was at that very moment that the depth of the situation caught up with Sam and threatened to swallow him like a wave- the Sheol was right. They were  _ alive.  _ All of those years, all of those times when heaven came so close to collapsing because of the lack of angels, it was all a  _ lie.  _ A lie that lived on for nearly a decade, and none of them had ever figured it out. It was Lucifer’s final victory, his one last  _ fuck you  _ to his siblings and humanity. They had managed to beat him in nearly every other situation but this one. 

“I don’t have long,” Anna said firmly, gripping both of her shocked brother’s hands, “I have to go. But Jack gave me a message to pass along.”

“Jack?” Castiel nearly gasped, more of a statement than a question as hope widened his eyes. Sam and Gabriel perked up at the name as well, staring at Anna like she held the key to the universe. 

“He did it,” she laughed wetly, a happy tinge to her voice, “he did it, Khastiy’el, you’d be so proud of him. He defeated Lucifer and he freed us all.”

“Lucifer’s dead?!” Sam and Dean exclaimed simultaneously, jaws dropping to the floor. 

Anna nodded. “The Nephilim killed him with holy fire and took back Hell- he is dead, I swear to you, I saw it with my own eyes. But Jack  _ survived,  _ Khastiy’el, you should have seen it! He walked out of that fire without a scratch on him. He  _ is Heylel’s son.”  _ She said fiercely, using the old Lucifer’s name because that’s all she knew how to describe it- Jack was a spitting image of their once favorite brother- not Lucifer, but Heylel. He did the morningstar proud. 

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise, and Gabriel only shook his head in denial and bewilderment. “That’s impossible,” Castiel said in a low, rough voice, “nothing can survive holy oil.” 

“ _ He did!”  _ Anna insisted firmly, gripping his shoulders tighter, “He did, and he’s taking control of Hell. He’s closing the gates and returning it to its original order. He told me to tell you that he’s ok… He wanted me to let you know that he was still alive, and that he doesn’t want you to come looking for him.”

“What?” Gabriel whispered in confusion, “What do you mean, of course we’re going to get him out of there!”

Anna bit her lip sadly, eyes full of love for her older brother. “I cannot speak for our nephew,” she said softly, “I can only tell you what he told me. He said that he needed time to restore the laws of the underworld, to purge all the corrupt demons and make sure that no soul is left uncounted. He is not a little boy anymore, Khastiy’el, he is a king.”

Sam felt his stomach drop as she described Jack as the new king of hell. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t even bear the thought. Jack, young, innocent, kind hearted child of Kelly Kline who died to give him life- Jack, Cas’s  _ son,  _ was the new King of Hell. It didn’t fit right, it would never fit right.

“I have to go,” Anna said suddenly, looking to the sky before embracing her two brothers, “ _ Arez _ _ ó _ _ di bolap _ _ é _ _ ada _ _ ğ _ _ ita ela _ _ şá _ .” she whispered, and Sam’s soul thrummed at the Enochian words in the language that he now knew automatically-  _ peace be with you.  _

“Anna, wait-” Gabriel protested, going to grab her hand, but before he could, she vanished into a trail of flame and sparks, swirling ever upwards to join her siblings in heaven, leaving the dumbfounded group shocked as they stood out on the lawn.

* * *

  
  


“Lucifer is dead,” Dean repeated for what must’ve been the tenth time that night, arms folded as he paced around the war room, “the son of a bitch is finally gone… I can’t believe it. I want to, but I just can’t.”

“Who can?” Mary asked wearily, sitting exhausted in one of the war room chairs, “We’ve been fooled one too many times. It’s not like we can go check ourselves-”

“He is,” Castiel cut off, looking at the floor with intensity, “dead, I mean. You can’t fake this. Not even Lucifer can. Holy oil is a death sentence, no matter who you are. I don’t even know how Jack survived.”

“Because he was chosen.” Gabriel replied instantly, looking at his younger brother with a twinge of disbelief, “Are you guys seriously doubting this? There is no other explanation here but divine intervention! The big guy upstairs has plans for him, Cas, that’s all there is to it!”

Castiel scoffed bitterly in a way that caused Dean to look at him with worry, “God doesn’t care,” Cas said cooly, “I’m beginning to think that he never did.”

Gabriel frowned at that, eyes narrowing. “And  _ this  _ is a sign on him  _ not  _ caring? I don’t know how much clearer it can get.”

“You’re deluding yourself with wishful thinking, Gabriel-”

“He  _ saved  _ your son from being burned alive!” Gabriel yelled, “If anyone’s deluding themselves, it’s you!”

They all exchanged looks in silence for a moment, Cas staring at his brother while Mary, Dean, and Rowena all looked on in anxiousness, waiting for either one of the angels to say something. But, it was Sam who broke the silence, refusing to let the tension ruin the miracle of what had just happened.

“Come on, guys,” he said, “I think we’re all a little… shocked… but we can’t forget that Jack’s alive! Not only is he alive, but from what Anna said, he’s actually making a difference, he took out  _ Lucifer,  _ for gods sakes, the kid is thriving! I don’t know Anna, but I don’t think she would lie about something like that.” 

Castiel sighed deeply, pinching his forehead in confusion. He  _ should  _ be happy- he  _ was! _ He was a hurricane of emotions, each one flying about wildly inside his head in a way that he’d never felt before. He was happy, beyond elated that his siblings were alive. He was scared, terrified that this was all some big trick and they were really still dead, that somehow this was all imaginary. He was angry, mad at himself and at Lucifer for letting the angels endure such a long time of pain and suffering. He was sad, so full of sorrow and grief that his gut hurt, knowing that he’d been thinking this whole time that he’d murdered his family when in reality, they were trapped and enslaved in Hell. And last but not least, he was guilty. Guilty for his oblivion to the entire situation, for standing idly by and doing nothing while his siblings’ torture went unnoticed, for letting Lucifer trick him and carry out such a long and horrific lie. He was guilty for Jack, that he couldn’t save his son from the evil that lurked on his sire’s bloodline, guilty that he stood here now with family and friends while Kelly Kline’s son was in the depths of Hell.

“The kid’s just like his father,” Gabriel mused happily, eyes twinkling with memories as he smiled. 

Everyone in the room except for Sam looked at him incredulously, before Gabriel rolled his eyes exasperatedly, “Not Lucifer,” he drawled and his face softened, “Heylel.” 

“Who?” Dean scrunched his face up at the unfamiliar name, but Castiel looked… troubled by it. Like there was a memory there, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. 

“Well,” Gabriel sighed deeply, “now that the world is no longer in immediate peril, I think Samshine and I need to retire for the evening.” He got up from his chair, soul beckoning Sam to rest with him in the quietness of their room. 

“Not in peril?!” Cas exclaimed, “My son,  _ your nephew,  _ is still stuck down there!”

Gabriel stared at him thoughtfully, eyes wise and so much older than Sam always thinks they are. “From what our  _ smart, loyal  _ sister says, he’s not stuck in Hell- he’s  _ leading  _ it. The kid is strong, Cas, he just usurped his own father for the throne. I think he can survive one more night before we go barging down there to cause trouble. C’mon, Sam.” He said with finality, grabbing Sam by the arm and leading him down to their room with no place for argument. 

“Gabe, what-”

“Sammy,” Gabe cut him off as soon as they were alone, “my pulse is racing, I’m sweating, my stomach feels weird, I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me… And am I…? Oh, god, are these tears? I must be dying. ” He put his head in his hands, flustered and confused. He hadn’t felt this way in eons.

“Whoa, slow down,” Sam chided, taking him gently by the shoulders, a small smile coming to his lips as he remembered what Gabe had told him once about the grace bond- they would each be able to feel each other’s emotions, human or not. “Gabe, you’re not dying,” he said softly, eyes warm, “you’re just overwhelmed. It happens sometimes to humans when they’re stressed or something crazy occurs.”

Gabriel sniffed confusedly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “But I’m not human!” He protested, his voice sounding more like a whine, “I just got all my grace back!”

Sam shrugged slightly, taking his hand and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, “You just saw your sister for the first time in nearly  _ ten years,”  _ he said, “and from what I understand, we both trade abilities like Dean used to trade baseball cards. If it’s human you’re feeling, then you probably got the emotions from me.”

Gabriel scoffed at him, punching his arm playfully. “You’re such a touchy-feely girl, Samantha.” He quipped.

For a moment, the tumultuous change that was their lives ceased to exist, and Sam let a grin stretch across his face as he raised an eyebrow at his best friend. “ _ I’m  _ touchy-feely?” He laughed incredulously, “ _ You’re  _ the one who insists on sharing a bed every night! I wake up and you’re clinging to me like a possessed octopus.” 

Gabriel hid his face slightly on the covers of the bed, honey colored eyes peering bashfully over at him. Sam often wondered why so many of the angels had vessels that were stoic and scary, sharp almost, but Gabriel’s was short and soft and although he would never dare say it aloud, unbelievably cute. He was like the classic cherub image that one would think of when they heard the word ‘angel’, like something out of an Italian fresco. 

“I get uneasy, alright?” Gabriel mumbled almost imperceptibly, “If you get up in the middle of the night and trip over your gigantic moose legs and die, I’m gonna pay for it, too.” 

Sam huffed an indignant breath of amusement at that. “Sure,” he patronized as he laid down on the bed next to the archangel, “nice excuse.”

Gabriel shrugged, proceeding to climb further up the mattress and nestle his face in the crook of Sam’s neck and shoulder. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s strong chest and biceps, sighing protectively like a mother hen settling in to rest with her chicks. Sam allowed a smile to quirk his lips up in the darkness, marveling at the wave of protectiveness that was constantly being emitted from Gabriel’s grace, almost maternal in instinct. It felt like Sam was a precious stone or something, because he noticed how Gabriel’s eyes (all thousand of them) were always open and observing their surroundings cautiously, like he needed to monitor how safe a given place was for Sam. Sometimes, he honestly felt like he’d been adopted by the angel, and wondered how odd that must look to other supernatural creatures- an archangel fostering something so different from itself, looking after another species like it was its own. His parental mindset rivaled that of even Dean’s, and in a lot of ways the angel reminded Sam so much of his older brother. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost either one of them.

“Gabriel,” he whispered in Enochian, holding the angel tighter, “I’m glad your siblings are alright. They deserve you- you’re a great brother.”

For a second, Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, he felt a warm blush envelope his chest and cheeks, the praise practically making him melt. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead before laying his own head down and going to sleep. He closed his eyes, but kept his invisible third one open for the rest of the night, making sure Sam was safe and staring through the darkness,looking for any sign of danger like a lighthouse peering out into the vast fog of the sea.

It was only when Sam was on the fringe of sleep and unconsciousness did he dazedly realize that Gabriel was singing again in his real voice, thousands of voices, male and female, chanting a rhythmic and happy chorus of words that he didn’t know. It was low and sweet and lulling, like honey dripping slowly off a spoon. They were almost whispering as they sang, crooning and keening and humming all at once. “ _ Esiasecahe, Esiasecahia, halalah, halalah, halalah… _ ”  


	44. Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe and Sam wake up together, and Jack gets down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Sorry about the wait! I’ve been really busy with life- hope you enjoy! Please please please leave your reviews and thoughts! They’re very valuable to me!
> 
> Btw, the translation of last chapters enochian:   
> Brothers, sisters, rejoice and proclaim.

Sam doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the feeling of waking up in the literal arms of an angel, swaddled in feathery wings like blankets and resting on the pulsating, living skin made up of galaxies and stars. It was the only thing that could make him completely forget about all the problems in his world, no matter how big they were, and let him feel safe. He was safe from any and all danger, and free of any and all expectations… He didn’t know whether it had to do with the grace bond or not, but when he was around Gabriel, he felt like he could truly be himself without putting up any sort of front. Looking back on it now, Sam supposed it had to do with the fact that the archangel could see into his very soul, the core essence of his being- what was the point in trying to pretend around someone who knew you better than you knew yourself?

He looked up sleepily and saw that Gabriel was still dozing, only his third eye open as it stoically observed their surroundings. His regular two were shut softly, reminding Sam amusedly of some kind of meditating buddha statue. He hadn’t noticed until recently, but the other night, the young Winchester discovered that the archangel had two extra sets of  _ arms,  _ giving him 6 in total. The realization startled him at first, but he was always discovering new things about the angel’s trueform anatomy, so why should he be so surprised about this? The other two sets of arms were able to fold back into his sides, tucking themselves away into his starry night skin like invisible wings. When he decided to unfurl them, however, he reminded Sam of one of the many gods they’d encountered over the years while researching lore and religion- the hindu God, Krishna, also had three sets of the limbs. He had yet to ask Gabriel what exactly the extra arms symbolized, but he had a feeling that it was just another piece of the oddly magnificent body that was an angel’s true form. 

Currently, Gabriel was hunched over in a state of rest, curled around Sam protectively while his first set of arms cradled the human to his chest. The other two sets were steepled gently beneath the creatures chin, almost like he was some sort of prayer-like state. Their room was illuminated in the soft glow of his radiating grace.

“I love you, Gabe.” He whispered raspily to himself, burying his face in the feathers sleepily. He wanted to stay there forever- Cas’s sadness couldn’t touch him, Jack’s absence couldn’t touch him, no worries in the world could permeate them. 

Gabriel’s two other eyes opened slowly, peering down at Sam with a fondness that could only be described as divine. The mask like face didn’t have a mouth, but somehow Sam could see it smiling brighter than the sun. “ _ Sammy lammy,”  _ the voices hummed in a singsong tone, the childish nickname causing the hunter to roll his eyes amusedly and unsuccessfully try to hide a grin on his lips, “ _ did you know that you snore?”  _

Sam frowned, eyebrows furrowed together at the statement. “What?” He asked confusedly, “I don’t snore, Dean does.”

The angel chirred his own unique bird noise. “ _ Yes, you do,”  _ he insisted,  _ “I heard you last night while you were sleeping.”  _

Sam scoffed tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. “Dude, do you just watch me sleep all night? That’s kind of creepy.”

Gabriel looked slightly affronted, folding his second set of arms against his chest indignantly. “ _ It’s not creepy,”  _ he retorted pointedly,  _ “I know you and Deano think your little fort of wonder here is impenetrable, but it’s not. It never hurts to have a second pair of eyes looking out for you.” _

Sam smiled against the soft downy feathers at the protectiveness of the statement. “I’m pretty sure Cas feels the same way.” He murmured gently, “He’s always poking holes in our warding design.”

Gabriel chuckled, his bright golden chest hitching with the motion. “ _ Of course he is _ ,” he said nonchalantly, “ _ Cassie is always paranoid when it comes to protecting you. He’s crazy about you guys. I know you think Dean is his favorite, but trust me, he’s bonkers about both of you. Deano just happens to be his, how should I put this, ‘damsel in distress’? _ ”

Sam curled his lip in slight disgust at the mental image of his older brother and the angel being… intimate… together. Definitely not a picture he ever wanted to walk in on in real life. “Eww, Gabe, gross,” he whined, “why’d you have to put that in my head?”

The angel shrugged unapologetically, shifting Sam to the bed before slowly retreating back into his human vessel, trueform contorting and slinking away in a shroud of blue light. Sam watched, slightly crestfallen at the beautiful creature leaving, but happy when he saw the familiar grin of his best friend/brother. Gabriel took up much less space on the bed than him on account of his smaller stature, leaving him a small lump beneath the blankets as he rested next to Sam. 

“Good morning, Sammy.” Gabe whispered lowly, staring at him adoringly from where he lay on the pillow, his honey colored eyes full of love and affection for the human.

Sam wished he could convey his feelings as well as Gabe could without words- there were so many things he needed to say that he didn’t have the diction for. Gratitude, love, happiness, fear, sorrow… each emotion on a level higher than the english language was able to express. He knew that today, they would all attempt to make the journey to get Jack to come home. It was dangerous, terrifying, and the absolute last place Sam wanted to go after all his memories with Lucifer. But he loved the kid and would do anything for him, so this was not an option. He wanted to say all of this to his archangel, but when he opened his mouth, the first words that came tumbling out were, “Why do you have six arms? That’s, like, really weird.”

They both laughed until their stomachs hurt.

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  


“How many gates are there left to close?” Jack demanded, drumming his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of his throne. He’d watched the angels fly free from Hell and had rejoiced in it, but that didn’t change the amount of work he had to do in his own kingdom. He’d been stretching his grace thin over the past few days, using his powers to inspect and explore every square inch of the underworld. He wasn’t going to allow any more corruption to go unnoticed, and there were many things that his father had kept hidden from him. He found his own way of blocking out the sight of torture from his conscious, quickly learning that Cas was right- inflicting pain on others wasn’t who he was. But he refused to look away, refused to hide in the shadows any longer. Everything had to be dealt with. He made sure that no righteous soul would ever be tortured by mistake by changing out the guards each time a damned one entered to be burned- he set free all the repented souls that Lucifer had kept captive, and assigned two of his rebellious demons to make sure that never happened again. He burned and destroyed every single artifact, object, and loophole that demons had made over the years in order to wreak havoc on humanity. He covered the walls of every hall with sigils to alert him if anything was amiss, and killed every demon who’d been caught trying to make deals with humans, although most of them had been terrified into submission after watching him emerge from the holy fire untouched. He was more feared than Lucifer ever had been, and many of the demons who’d set their sights on trying to become the next king of Hell quickly stopped in their tracks when they felt his power. 

He was now exhausted as he proceeded  in the final step of scratching the surface- closing the gates for good. As it turned out, the old gatekeeper, Chloe, had been instructed by Lucifer to leave many entrances open so as to create as much chaos as possible. Jack had been closing and sealing off openings for what seems like an eternity, painstakingly welding each hole shut with molten metal that had been liquified in holy fire. Now, there was only the main entrance gate left to be locked- but that was a feat in of itself. The boy quickly learned at the main gates were enormous, tall, old, and highly unstable. It was a dangerous task to handle them successfully- one wrong move, and they could be destroyed forever. 

“Only one, my lord.” Mallory answered, head bowed. Jack had taken pity on her since he claimed the throne, and allowed her to serve as his personal guard instead of punishing her like the rest of the demons. 

Jack sighed deeply, his father’s crown resting lightly on his head. Ferdinand was laying on the stone floor beside his throne, chains clanking loudly against the walls as he chewed on a demons vessel with his giant fangs.

“How many souls enter and leave each day?” He asked quietly. 

Mallory purses her lips in thought. “About 1 million leave, sire, and 10 million enter.” 

The problem was ever present, then. More souls entering Hell than leaving- he’d have to find some way to keep the gate both sealed and large enough. The young boy suddenly had the urge to fall asleep in the warm bed that Sam and Castiel had given him back home in the bunker.  _ I wonder if they miss me as much as I miss them… I hope Anna delivered her message.  _

“Your grace!” A demon named nick called suddenly, appearing in the doorway as he dragged Zachary with him, “I caught him making a deal with a human in exchange for her soul.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes on the nervous looking demon, who was staring at him pathetically fearful. 

“Mercy, my lord.” Zachary begged desperately, eyes wide as he saw the enormous hellhound resting at Jack’s side. 

Jack tilted his head, eyeing the demon with his unreadable stare. “Is this true?” He asked lowly, even though he already knew the answer, “Did you make a deal with a human?” 

Zachary paused for a moment, presumably trying to come up with an excuse that was passable, but when he couldn’t think of anything, he only shook his head. “Mercy, my lord, please!” He begged again. 

Jack stared coldly at the demon, eyes unmoved. “Mercy… just how much of it did you show this human?” He asked. He didn’t have to question- he already knew, but he liked to see them try to find a way to excuse their wretchedness, a method to explain away their evil motives. His grace was all encompassing when it came to his demons- he could see and hear nearly everything they did, and he had caught a glimpse of the woman Zachary had dealt with. A desperate, grief driven mother who sold her soul in exchange for her dying daughter's life. 

A sudden wave of immeasurable anger washed over him as he realized Zachary’s brazenness, and before the demon could do anything else, Jack snapped his fingers, and Ferdinand lunged. Thankfully, the demon sparked and died the moment the dogs sharp teeth pierced its neck. No matter how awful a person's actions were, Jack never enjoyed watching long and drawn out executions. 

“Free the human from his deal and return her to earth.” Jack ordered Nick, who didn’t need to be told twice. His eyes were still wide in shock after watching Ferdinand tear flesh from Zachary’s vessel, blood staining the hounds face. 

The throne room was quiet and immense, silent save for the crackling of torches on the walls. Jack felt himself slowly but surely growing hardened against the loneliness, able to handle more of it each and every day. Since killing Lucifer and taking control, the boys eyes had been opened to so many things that they hadn’t known before. He felt older, so much older than he ever was. The lessons that Sam and Dean had taught him began to look smaller and smaller, their value only becoming more obsolete as he was faced with new challenges that were unfit for human eyes. He often wondered about Castiel, how he was coping with his disappearance. Jack wanted to believe otherwise, but deep down he knew that it was only a matter of time before his adopted father found him and would try to take him back to earth. Back to the bunker, the impala, the life he knew before… Jack couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. But he knew that he could never go back. It hurt too much to think about it for long. So, Jack held his old life like a memory in a snow globe- beautiful and wonderful, but never to touch and never to keep. 

Ferdinand growled lowly, a rumble in his throat as he approached his owner. His claws clicked against the stone floor as he padded over to Jack, laying his massive body down at the king’s feet. For a creature born of suffering and evil, the dog had never shown a hint of aggression towards jack. In fact, it seemed to have a keen sense of when the boy was feeling down. 

“I wish I knew Heylel,” he whispered the name softly to the dog as he stroked its coarse and wiry fur, “he would know what to do. I like to think that maybe he’d even be proud of me.”


	45. Goodbye, Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big, sweet reunion you've all been waiting for... and a bittersweet goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HEERRREEE!!! So sorry to keep you all waiting, but life is hectic! Anyways, this one is a tear-jerker, folks, so have your tissues ready. Please please please PLEASE let me know what you thought of it! Apologies in advance if you liked the canon arrangement, but this had to be done!

Castiel spent the entire morning working tirelessly to prepare for his journey into Hell. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew he had to try. What kind of father would he be if he didn’t even attempt to rescue his son?  _ An even worse one than you already are,  _ a voice pierced in the back of his head. It hurt more than anything to know that it was true. 

After a long-heated and intense debate, the group decided that it was best for Castiel to go with Gabriel and Rowena, and no one else. After Crowley had spent his short amount of time as king, the underworld became even less hospitable for humans than it was before, if that was even possible. To take a human there, even to visit, would cause severe damage to their bodies, and worst of all, their souls. Sam, Dean, and even Mary were all more than willing to endure the pain if it meant seeing Jack again, but after facing facts and much convincing from both angels, they realized it would cause them all more harm than good. The energy that Cas or Gabe would have to spend healing them from the trip would be too much. 

So, it was with extreme reluctance that the humans bid their angels farewell. It was a short visit, Gabe had promised, no more than an hour to try to get Jack to leave his grace in the urn of Sheol and return with them to earth. The demons had been oddly quiet since the angels rose again, and Sam was worried out of his mind. Quiet is never a good thing when it came to the evil creatures- it usually meant they were planning something, and a trip to Hell was a visit to the lion’s den. Dangerous and unstable- anything could go wrong at any given moment. 

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Samantha,” Gabriel had teased good-heartedly, a tinge of affection in his voice as he prepared to leave, “I’m back up to full power now, I can take care of myself.”

Sam bit his lip apprehensively, eyes wide with anxiety as he watched Gabriel secure his angel blade in his jacket. “I know,” he said softly, “but please… Just… Come back, ok? Leave early, even, just… just come back.”

The archangel smiled sympathetically at him, resting his palm on his cheek gently. Sam could feel his grace nudging his soul reassuringly, sending waves of comfort and relaxation through their bond. “I promise,” he murmured, “I’ll be right back. I won’t even touch or talk to anything, if it makes you feel better. I can implement my museum behavior.” 

A small laugh escaped the younger hunter’s lips without his consent bring a smile to Gabriel’s face. 

“We’re ready,” Cas announced, looking to his brother solemnly as he held the urn, “we need to go.”

“Finally!” Rowena drawled, setting the file down that she’d been using to manicure her nails, “I’ve just about waited all morning for ya two! These curls won’t last forever, you know, so I want to get there while I’m still dolled up enough to make a few demons blush… it’s not often that those boys get a visit from a woman as smart and sophisticated as  _ I  _ am.”

Dean rolled his eyes while Cas stared at her perplexed, Mary whispering a curse under her breath at the vanity of the witch. 

“Hey,” Dean grabbed Cas’s shoulder before he turned to fly away, locking eyes with him, “don’t do anything stupid, ok?”

He could see the pain, the grief in the angel’s blue orbs, and it almost tore him apart. He wanted to wrap him up and hold him and stop him from going, wanted to keep him safe in the bunker forever, as selfish as the thought was. But Jack was important to them- he knew that Cas would never truly be happy if he didn’t make peace with his son. 

The angel didn’t answer, but his face said it all. He’d do what he could- they were past making promises, now. Promises were a luxury they had long ago stopped being able to afford. 

The Winchesters watched with worried eyes as the three disappeared, vanishing into the supernatural plane that no human could ever fully comprehend.

 

* * *

 

Jack felt it the moment they arrived. His grace had rooted itself in the underworld since he’d taken Lucifer’s throne, curling around every single corner like tendrils of a plant taking base in the ground. He knew, heard, and felt everything that happened in his kingdom. So he knew right away when the three foreign beings arrived from earth. And he knew that there was only one option as to who it could be. 

He closed his eyes, heart thumping in his chest. He’d been both dreading and awaiting this day with excitement, the chance to see his family again… and the chance to leave them behind again. Over the past couple of weeks, he had single handedly cut down corruption in Hell by a considerably large amount, sealed away a total of 75 unnecessary entrances, and repaired the main gates so that they could take in and expel souls more efficiently. His grace was strained in a way that it never had been before, and he was often finding himself more tired than he’d ever been.  _ I wonder what Castiel will think of me now,  _ he thought to himself,  _ maybe he’ll be disappointed that I’m not who I used to be.  _ It was true; he had changed in ways he never could have imagined. His innocence was gone, thrown to the wind. He thinks that maybe it had been gone longer than he thought, that he had lost his childhood the moment he fought with Castiel about his right to bond with Lucifer. He saw the world for what it was now, not for how he wished it to be. 

“My lord,” Mallory said hurriedly, “invaders have come to the gates, two angels and a witch-”

“Let them in.” Jack interrupted quietly, staring straight ahead, expression blank with carefully practiced discipline. 

Mallory frowned in confusion. “What?” She asked, “but they’re-”

“Let them in.” Jack repeated himself, firmly but not unkind. 

The demon looked at him strangely and gave a slight shrug, but bowed nonetheless and went to deliver his order.

_ I look different, too,  _ Jack observed absentmindedly as he caught his reflection in one of the shiny metal fire bowls. His dusty blonde hair had grown out to just a few inches above his shoulders, wavy and untamed. He was wearing a black leather jacket that his father had given him just hours after his coronation, a small silver pin with the symbol for ‘justice’ in Enochian was pinned to the lapel. The plain, obsidian crown rested lightly on his head, yet it weighed a million pounds.

“The visitors are here, my lord,” a voice bellowed from the corridor, whom Jack recognized as Nick. 

His chest felt tight, his heart was beating out of its ribcage, his palms were clammy… But on the outside, he was cold as steel, expressionless and unreadable. He gave a slight wave of his hand, motioning for the demon to let them in. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the hardness of the throne beneath him, and heard the doors to the temple open with a loud clang and groan. 

“... Jack.” The familiar voice nearly took his breath away.

He opened his eyes to see Castiel,  _ his father _ , staring at him with wide, blue eyes. Gabriel and the red haired woman whose name escaped him were present as well, standing frozen in the doorway. 

“Hello, Father.” He said raspily, voice barely above a whisper as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Castiel let out a shaky breath, staring at him like he was the key to the universe. A mix of every type of emotion was flying across his face- sadness, joy, grief, guilt, love. He was looking at Jack like he was gravely injured, eyes full of sympathy and pain.  _ Does he really think any of this is his fault?  _ Jack certainly hoped not. 

“I’m glad to see you,” Jack tried gently, the tentative smile still on his face. It seemed like an eternity since they last spoke. “You look well.”

Castiel still couldn’t speak, so Gabriel piped up for him. “Hey, kiddo,” he greeted with his trademark grin, “long time no see. How ya doin’?”

Jack felt his smile broaden at seeing his uncle. He’d liked Gabriel from the minute he met him- in a way, he was his last connection to his father, one of the people who knew Heylel better than anyone. “Hello, Uncle,” he smiled genuinely, “I’m doing fine.”

“You’re  _ not  _ fine,” Castiel said gravelly, eyes trained on Jack with a frightening amount of concern, “Jack, this is not where you belong. We’ve come to take you home. We’ve found a way to keep Hell from bursting loose without Lucifer’s control, it  _ will work.  _ We have researched it countless times, it is called the Urn of Sheol.” 

Jack paused, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Urn?” He asked in bewilderment. 

Castiel nodded. “Yes, Sam and Dean found it- it is a vessel made by the Sheol himself, and if you dispense the slightest amount of your grace into it, we can seal it and leave it here in your place. Hell will recognize the energy signature of your grace, and you can come home with us.” The angel was looking at him expectantly, as though he was waiting for Jack to jump off the throne and waltz right out with him. 

Jack’s face softened, sadness marring his features. He stood up slowly, each step feeling like a mile as he walked up to his father. He wrapped his arms around the familiar body, holding the trench-coat clad vessel close to him. Castiel exhaled slightly in surprise, not hesitating for a second before hugging his son back. They stood together in that embrace for a few moments, letting themselves revel in what they had missed for so long. 

It was agony for Jack to pull away, gently and steadily as he could. “Father…” He began slowly, “I… I cannot leave.”

Castiel faltered, frowning for a moment while he registered Jack’s words. “What?” He breathed. 

Jack smiled woefully, tears threatening to prick at his eyes. “I am your son,” he started quietly, “I will  _ always  _ be your son. But I am also Heylel’s.”

“Lucifer is not-”

“Not Lucifer,” Jack corrected gently, the corner of his lips quirking up ever so slightly, “ _ Heylel.  _ Your brother was a great man, Castiel… It was his image that blinded me from what he had become. You were right, Lucifer was nothing like me. He was a monster. I will never be like him. But before he fell, Cas, before  _ everything,  _ he was…” He lost his voice when he thought of the beautiful aura he’d seen at first, the glory of what his father used to be. Gabriel’s tears went unnoticed in the corner. 

“He was wonderful.” Jack finished, “But he died long ago. I see that now. And the evil that took his place had to be stopped. I don’t know, I-I don’t know why, but somehow I was spared the grace of Lucifer and given the grace of Heylel. Maybe… Maybe there was still the smallest, most slight bit of his true self left when he was with my mother that. Buried deep beneath all that darkness, far beyond the point of any return, but… still there. I feel it, Castiel, and I  _ know  _ I can do this.”

“Jack, just because you think-”

“You didn’t see me walk out of this temple unburnt,” he said, louder than he meant, “you didn’t see me emerge from holy fire unscathed. I am no ordinary child, Castiel, my thoughts  _ come true. _ ”

There was silence between them as Cas stared, conflicted, his eyes shining with upset and conflict.

Jack felt a tear stream down his cheek as he smiled sadly. “This is so much more than just holding Hell together,” he whispered brokenly, “a bottle of my grace cannot rule in my stead. There is more at stake than simply the very seems of the underworld bursting apart at my absence. You’ve seen firsthand what the repercussions are when Hell is not in check… I cannot allow that to happen again, Castiel, I  _ won’t.” _

Castiel shook his head, breathing shakily. “And I won’t leave my son.”

Jack grabbed his hand, his rough, calloused hand, and held it tightly between his own. “There is no place you could go where I won’t be with you.” He promised fiercely, voice barely above a whisper.

Castiel’s eyes took on a glazed, haunted look as he sensed what was about to happen. “Jack, you don’t understand, what kind of father would I be if I let you stay down here?” He croaked meekly.

Jack frowned meaningfully, gripping his hands tighter. “You’re a great father,” he said determinedly, “you’ve made me who I am. You are so much more than you know.” Jack knew his father would never let him stay down here of his own volition, knew that Castiel was fully set on leaving with him no matter what. His heart was tearing in two with every passing second. 

“ _ Please,  _ Jack,” Castiel whispered pleadingly, eyes pained as he looked at him, distraught, “please don’t do this.” 

Gabriel and Rowena looked on intently, holding their breaths as they watched the exchange. Gabriel didn’t have to wonder what would happen, though. From the moment the kid left with Lucifer, he knew how things would end. He’d hoped they’d have a better outcome, but deep down, he knew. 

“I love you.” Jack uttered mournfully, before turning away and nodding to the guards. 

“Jack!” Castiel screamed as the sigil-warded guards came up to grab him firmly by the forearms to escort him out, “No! Jack!” He threw all of his weight against the demons, writhing and trying to break free, but the banishing sigil pushed him away time and time again. “JACK!!!!!” He continued to shout as the space between them grew larger and larger. Gabriel and Rowena only stared at the ground solemnly, walking out willingly as they had foreseen. Gabriel held his younger brother close as they left without Jack, trying to console him as the sigil-painted guards dragged him off.  

The cries of his father ate away at his soul like flames of a fire, devouring him agonizingly and causing him to wish that he had died in the fire with Lucifer. He knew this was for the best, what was best for both of them, so he could do nothing but stand numbly and cry as the angel finally disappeared from his sight, the large temple doors shutting loudly behind them. 

The screams of Castiel still echoed within the stone walls of the temple, and only the torches burned brightly whilst Jack wept alone.  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	46. Never be Tamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Cas, Gabriel, and Rowena’s return from Hell. Gabriel shows a glimpse of his wild side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you for reading! Please leave reviews and kudos, every time you do, Gabe gets hugs!! /(-3-)/

Sam sat out on the front porch, silently watching as Gabriel soared high above the sky, flying circles around the general area of the bunker. He’d transformed into the dragon as soon as they’d return, flying high above the rest to blow off some steam.

It was almost a spiritual experience to watch his angel fly, the dragon’s strong wings flapping against the air, casting shadows on the ground as they stretched. His amber feathers caught the wind current just right, enabling him to glide for longer periods of time, long spined tail flying behind him like a guide. He emitted the occasional roar, the loud, an almost metallic like sound echoing through the forest. His legs were curled beneath him as he flew, tucked away so that only the sharp talons peeked out from the scaly golden skin. 

He was breathtaking, and sometimes Sam was convinced that when he was looking at him, he could truly see God. 

“I’ll never get over you riding that thing.”

Sam turned around to see Dean leaning against the doorway, smirking slightly at him. He chuckled dryly, flicking his eyes back up to Gabriel again. “It’s not so different from the impala, dude. You’re just saying that because you’re scared of flying.”

Dean scoffed, walking over to join him with his arms folded. “Yeah, remember last time we were on a plane?” He prodded, “Total deathtrap. I’d say it’s a justified fear.” 

Sam’s smile was bittersweet, watching his dragon beat his wings rhythmically as the wind he was riding dissipated. “... How’s Cas?”

A look of pain spread over Dean’s face, and he stared at the floor. “Not good.” He admitted, “Been in his room all day.” 

Since the three had returned from Hell without Jack, the younger angel was a mess. Sam had embraced Gabriel the moment he saw him, thankful that for once, nothing had gone wrong in terms of physical harm. In terms of everything else, though… They were all devastated. He had seen the hurt on Dean’s face when he laid eyes on his love, when he’d realized that Jack wasn’t going to return. The older hunter had spent the last three days almost entirely glued to Cas’s side, refusing to leave him alone for longer than 30 minutes, consoling and trying to put him back together. The angel had lost his son- or at least, that’s how Cas saw it.

Sam was, of course, terribly saddened when he learned that Jack wasn’t going to rejoin them… But after further reflection, he thinks he knew all along how things would end. Gabriel had been right; the kid  _ was _ stronger than Lucifer. He was a  _ born leader _ . From everything that Sam had heard, he was putting Hell back in order, if such a thing was possible. He had slaughtered thousands of corrupt demons, banned crossroad deals forever, and had either destroyed or confined all the monsters of the underworld to inescapable prisons. This boy who he’d known since birth, this  _ child  _ was no longer a child. He was a man. And as much as Sam missed him and wished he could have him back, he couldn’t help but be damned proud. 

“He’ll get better,” Sam said softly, “it’ll take a long time, but eventually, he will.” 

Dean sighed heavily, rubbing his head with his hands. “I don’t know, man,” he confessed tiredly, “I really don’t. I’ve never seen him like this before, I… I can’t help him.”

Sam frowned. “You’re already helping him,” he countered, “he loves you. He just needs you to… I don’t know, be there. And hell if that’s not what you’ve been doing. He’s lucky to have you, Dean.”

The older hunter chuckled hollowly, sounding more exhausted than Sam had ever heard him. “I never thought I’d have the courage to, you know… find someone. Hell, I can only imagine what Dad would say if he saw me now. In love with another guy. Another species, for fucks sakes.”

Sam huffed sardonically. “Dad didn’t understand  _ a lot _ of things,” he murmured, “you know that.”

Dean didn’t reply, staring at the dragon that flew high above their home. “You know, sometimes I don’t understand it myself.” He paused. “I love Cas… you know that. I’d do anything for him. I just don’t understand why he feels that way about me. I’m the opposite of what he is, what he needs. I’ve treated him like a doormat too many times to count, and I never even took the time to be a good mentor to his son.” 

Sam looked at his brother thoughtfully, eyes genuine and understanding. “Let me give you some advice, dude… Whatever you think about yourself, always know that in reality, it’s the opposite.” He echoed the words that Dean had once told Sam long ago, when they were both kids in the impala, just 8 and 12. Sam was still a chubby nerd of a kid, always getting picked on it whatever school they happened to go to. And John, much to Dean’s dismay, never offered any words of compassion or care to his son when he came home with a black eye or a sullen face. When Sam had a crush on Lisa Henderson, the prettiest girl in the fourth grade, he’d told Dean reluctantly. 

_ “You should go for it, Sammy,” Dean had said encouragingly, “you never know.” _

_ Sam had sighed, looking down at his shoes sadly. “She’ll never go for me. I’m just a loser.” _

_ Dean scoffed, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Look, dude, let me give you some advice- whatever you think about yourself, always know in reality, it’s the opposite.” _

Dean’s eyes widened imperceptibly at the memory, looking at Sam in slight bewilderment that he remembered that. He often found himself marveling at some of the things that he’d said that Sam still carried with him. He influenced his brother more than he thought he did. 

Sam smiled. Before they could say anything more, however, Gabriel flew down to the ground with a roar, finally tired out after hours of flying. The wind from the beating of his feathers blew through both men’s hair, causing them to squint as the taloned feet anchored themselves on the ground. 

The webbed spines on Gabriel’s neck flopped back and forth, collapsing and reforming in rows upon rows of scales. He worked his enormous jaw a few times, large teeth flashing from beneath the rough skin as he did so. He inched closer towards Sam on his hooked elbow joints, shoulder blades shifting as he crawled and cooed softly.

Dean swallowed in apprehension, forcing himself to not take a step backwards. He knew that Gabriel would never harm him- Hell, the guy had saved their lives now a number of times. But something about the sheer size of the beast made him quiver where he stood, made him feel so small and insignificant. It wasn’t necessarily demeaning, but it was enough to make him feel like he wasn’t the most macho guy in the room anymore. 

“He’s been like this ever since they got back,” Sam said sadly to his brother, “I think seeing Cas break down really got to him. He’s not ready to come back yet.” Gabriel’s grace had assured him that he was alright the moment they got back, but he didn’t really feel like dealing with the others at the moment, so he’d taken to the skies to cool off. They’d been conversing quietly ever since, Sam watching patiently from the ground as the dragon soared above, never wandering out of sight.

Gabriel roared again, and it was only then that they both realized there was something in his mouth. “... Gabe? What’s that?” Sam asked apprehensively, narrowing his eyes as he looked closer on the archangel.

The dragon rumbled a low, non malicious growl, before, to both boy’s shock, a deer carcass tumbled out from behind the cage of teeth. It was mangled and bloody, bones exposed and obvious chunks of flesh missing. It hit the grass with a dull thud, staining the green with bright red blood. 

_ “I’m sorry, kiddo,”  _ Gabriel’s voice rang through his mind,  _ “it’s just a reflex. I eat when I’m upset. I should’ve let you know earlier. Normally, I’d just down a few boxes of candy bars, but in this form…”  _

Dean’s eyes were still wide, staring in disgust at the corpse. “What the hell happened?” He asked in a shrill voice laced with distaste. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging his temples tiredly. Great- another thing to explain to his already skeptical older brother. “Nothing, he was just hungry.” He managed wearily. “ _ Really, Gabe? You could’ve just told me, I would’ve run inside and gotten you something.” _

“Hungry for raw animal hide?” Dean questioned pointedly, nudging the mangled deer with the tip of his boot. He couldn’t help but be cautious- the only experiences he’d ever had of finding mysteriously killed animals had ended in a wendigo fight or a vampire hunt. Many monsters started out gutting animals before turning to humans. 

_ “I didn’t even think of that, Sammy… it’s been a while since anyone was willing to interact with me in this form. I’m still getting used to your overly-caring gigantor self.”  _ The dragon shrugged. 

Sam scoffed at that, but he couldn’t help the amused quirk on the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, well, no more fresh food from now on. There’s a 7/11 down the road, if you want something, you can ask me or Dean.” He said.

Dean looked at Sam with a frown and narrowed eyes. “Don’t volunteer me for stuff, dude,” he protested, “I’m not gonna drag myself out there just because your friend here is too lazy to go himself!”

Gabriel roared at Dean loud enough to burst their eardrums, sharp, scaly snout coming right up to him and baring the razor sharp triangular shaped fangs. The enormous jaw stretched open wide enough for Dean to see all the way to the blackness of the immense throat, an abyss that seemingly had no end. The large, sudden screech caused the older hunter to fall backwards, landing on his back with a loud thud. 

Sam’s eyes were wide with shock at how sudden and forceful the outburst was. He had never seen that side of Gabriel before, and it worried him. Before he could even ask about it, thought, the dragon turned on its feet and took off towards the sky once more, giving a few strong flaps of his massive wings, before he was so high up that he was barely visible. 

Dean was still catching his breath as he sat up, hands trembling slightly as he watched the beast soar above the bunker once more. 

“He’s a  _ dragon,  _ boys,” A voice said flatly from behind them, where they saw Rowena watching expressionless as she looked pointedly to Sam, “you forget that all too often because he acts like a human. But he’s not. He can never be tamed. Not even by you.” 


	47. Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam tries to get through to Castiel and drag him out of depression he's in. Jack grows into his position even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!! Thank you so much for your continued support and for reading my story! Please leave your reviews and advice in the comment section below! I would love to see what you all think should happen next! My readers ideas are very important to me, so let me know!

Gabriel hadn’t been responding to any of Sam’s telepathic questioning since he’d scared Dean half to death, but he didn’t really have to. Sam could feel the anxiety, the hurt radiating from the archangel’s grace in waves that were overpowering. He’d normally lecture him for using his power to threaten his brother, but he knew it wasn’t a real threat at all. Gabe would never lay a finger on Dean- he was just upset. 

Reassured by the periodic roars he’d hear from above the bunker, Sam quietly padded inside and down the hall to Castiel’s room. The angel had been devastated by his son’s choice to stay in Hell, felt like he was abandoning him to suffer- he’d been locked in his room ever since, refusing to come out for anyone save Dean.  _ This has got to stop,  _ Sam thought determinedly to himself, an outlandish but very present idea coming to the forefront of his mind. 

“Cas?” He called gently, rapping his knuckles against the bedroom door, “Can I come in for a second?”

There was a long pause of silence, and for a minute, Sam wasn’t sure if he was going to get an answer or not. But then, ever so slowly, the door inched open with a creaking noise. The young hunter sighed, stepping in the darkness of the small bedroom, careful not to trip over anything in the blackness. 

“Listen, Cas, we gotta talk.” He said plainly.

Castiel didn’t reply, a stoic lump on the bed, only the silhouette of his shoulders and hair visible in the shadows. Sam could hear the angel breathing, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Alright, I get it,” the young hunter murmured placatingly, “if you don’t wanna talk, you don’t have to. So just listen… I know you’re missing Jack. We all are, he’s a part of our family. But, I think you’re missing something really important here. Kids,  _ people,  _ they change, Cas. Hell, I’ve changed, so has Dean. It’s a part of life, part of being human. You grow up, you see things in a different light, you’re able to do things that you couldn’t do before… And that’s good! It means you’re maturing, you’re becoming experienced. It’s not always easy, and sometimes, it can take a lot of adjusting, but it’s worth it. I think… I think you’ve been so busy trying to shield Jack from the world, you’ve never got around to seeing that he was growing up faster than you thought. You think he’s still fragile, still just a kid… But he’s not, Cas, you made sure of that. I mean, you’ve raised him to be strong enough to conquer in  _ one day  _ someone we’ve been trying to take out for years!”

Cas shifted slightly in the darkness. He didn't say anything, but Sam could tell he was listening. 

“... I know you wanted more time with him, but he was,  _ is  _ ready to do great things. He’s saved us, he freed your brothers and sisters! Don’t you think we should be proud of him for that instead of acting like he’s dead when he’s not?”

He waited for the angel to reply, but when he got nothing, he sighed in defeat. “You think about that…” he murmured softly, turning to leave before the voice stopped him. 

“She said he would.” 

Sam frowned, eyebrows knitted together. “What?” He asked. 

“Kelly Kline,” the gravelly voice clarified lowly, “she said he’d grow up to do great things someday.”

Sam felt a flutter of hope bloom in his chest, small and barely there, but glowing. “Yeah?” he said with a smile, “I bet she’d be proud.”

Castiel’s tone was slightly lighter when he replied, “I’m sure she is.” 

Sam flicked his eyes to the ground, giving a short nod before disappearing into the hallway, leaving the angel alone to think. It was small and slow, but it was a start. One was better than none, he thought. 

The absence of wing flapping and roars let him know that Gabriel was done cooling off, and he didn’t even jump when he heard the familiar voice behind him. 

“Deano’s already found himself another hunt in Kansas, something about a ghost. He just gets right back into it, doesn’t he?” Gabe looked tired but smiled anyway, golden hair only slightly mused in the sunlight. He was wearing one of his olive green shirts beneath his jacket, the ones Sam loved the most. He never knew why, but now the shade of olive green always reminded him strongly and specifically of the archangel. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, turning slightly with his arms folded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards, “yeah, he does. Keeps him busy, I guess.” 

Gabriel leaned against the doorway to the war room, watching Sam carefully. “You, uh… you gonna join him?” He asked, trying but failing to hide the concern in his voice. It was a simple salt and burn, a vengeful spirit caught in a life and death vendetta against some ex lover. But even the seemingly smallest of things were fear worthy when someone’s life force was linked to yours. One wrong step, and you’d earn a one way ticket to the after life for not only yourself, but for them.

The young hunter shrugged in an effort to look nonchalant. “Dunno,” he admitted, “I probably should. It’d feel kinda good, in a way, almost like old times.” Nearly 90% of his entire life was memories of him and his brother alone together in the impala on a highway at night, just them against the world. Dean was his life, his everything. At this point, he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost his brother.  _ Again. _ Because that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? They’d already lost each other time and time again. And every time, they’d managed to come back. But each return they made, they were a little more broken, a little less of the person they used to be. The unspoken fear hung over their heads like a rickety bridge- that one day, they’d die and not be able to return at all. That one of these days, one of these hunts, they’d lose the other  _ for good.  _ No deals, no magic, nothing able to bring them back. It would be the end of the line for both of them. 

But now, Sam had Gabriel to think about. He couldn’t just follow his older brother into the afterlife no matter how badly he’d want to if Dean were to die. He’d have another person depending on him, counting on him. Sometimes, he couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse. 

“You should go, kiddo,” Gabriel said softly, breaking the silence between them, “make the goof’s day.” 

Sam looked at him in surprise, expecting a plea or reason to stay home with the angel. But when he stared at the man who’d become a literal part of him, he gazed into wise, understanding eyes. They said everything that words didn’t-  _ go spend time with your brother, just the two of you- you both need it.  _

Sam found himself constantly having his breath taken away by the sheer experience and wisdom in those whiskey colored eyes. Gabriel took things as they came and joked around so often, that Sam sometimes forgot how much the angel understood the world. On the surface, he was a slight, short little man with honey colored hair and a grin that could light up the room. But underneath, he was fire and grace and infinity. 

“Thanks, Gabe.” He murmured quietly, embracing the small vessel tightly, “I promise I’ll be careful.” 

Gabriel, despite being a good half a foot shorter than the hunter, always managed to make Sam feel like he was the one being embraced, not the other way around. He felt warm and safe and protected in the angels arms, a type of sensation that he couldn’t accurately describe if his life depended on it. 

“I know you will, sammich.” The archangel said softly, squeezing him close, “I know you will.” 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“There, now…” Jack cooed softly, stroking the ebony fur on Ferdinand’s back. The enormous beast was laying at his feet, but even resting at the foot of the three steps it took to get up to the throne, the hound’s shoulder blades still came up to Jack’s waist. He growled lowly in the back of his throat, his wet nose giving off warm puffs of air. His side of the throne room was littered in bones, each one perfectly white and licked clean of all the flesh on it. They served as both amusement for the dog, and a reminder for all who entered to see the king; no more corruption would be tolerated. 

To Jack’s surprise, however, the amount of rebellious demons had significantly decreased after word got out about what happened to Zachary. The minions of Hell were much less talkative now, going about their work in near silence and never daring to question Jacks orders. The boy marveled at the complete turnaround- the longer he sat on the throne, the more he realized how small Lucifer’s control truly was. He wasn’t respected, wasn’t taken seriously, and had created opportunities for chaos everywhere. The only thing he had going for him was fear. And if there was one thing that Jack had learned, it was that leading with fear alone was not leading at all.

He’d been mostly secluded since Castiel and the others left, preferring the quiet company of his hound to the exhausting chatter of the servant demons. Nothing had ever hurt him in his entire life as much as watching his father cry out for him and not being able to do anything about it. The look of almost  _ betrayal  _ in Castiel’s blue eyes haunted him every time he tried to sleep, prodding at him and almost mocking him.  _ You chose this over me?  _ His face had seemed to ask,  _ You chose to rule over be with your family?. _ It tore Jack apart inside. He’d cried until his chest was tight with exhaustion that night, slumped over in the cold throne, never feeling more alone than he did then. He missed Maggie, Sam, Mary, Bobby, Rowena, Gabriel… even  _ Dean.  _ He missed home. A part of him knew that if he really wanted to, he could’ve listened to his father. He could have left a portion of his grace in that urn and escaped to earth with them, could have reunited with his family and lived out the rest of his days in happiness. But that was just it- without a firm hand on the underworld, those days  _ would be limited.  _ And not just for him, but for everyone. 

So, like some precious treasure just out of reach, Jack had forced himself to walk away from that dream, had forced himself to stay behind and watch as Castiel was escorted out. He  _ wanted  _ what was happiest for himself, but he would  _ do _ what was best for everyone. He would take up the weight of his father’s crown. He would regain control of the previously uncontrollable realm. He had been spared from the fire for a reason, and that thought alone kept him focused on his task at hand. He was chosen for this by something bigger than himself. He often wondered if what Dean said about God being gone for good was true- he didn’t know anyone else that could have saved him from what destroyed any form of life in the universe. Nothing was immune to holy fire… Except the one who created it. 

  
  
  



	48. Not The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have an important heart to heart, and the angels find their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you for all your continued support! Every time I see a comment, it lifts my spirit and warms my heart to know that someone cared enough about my writing to share what they think with me. Enjoy!

The steady thrum of the impala engine was a sound that Sam could always fall asleep to. It was the sound of his childhood, his family, and everything he’d ever known. 

The hunt had gone as smooth as they could’ve hoped for- they’d driven up to a small, run down neighborhood in the northernmost backwoods of Topeka, where they found the vengeful spirit. Dean moved liked a shadow when it came to ganking the thing- he was swift, practiced, and near silent as he attacked the possessed corpse, wrestling it to the ground so Sam had enough time to salt and burn it. Within minutes, the soul had departed, forced on its way to the afterlife and no longer able to terrorize the people on earth. Turns out it had been killing young women randomly, thinking each victim was the girl who’d cheated on him.  _ A romance gone wrong,  _ Dean had said with a smirk as they watched the body go up in flames. 

They worked like a well oiled machine together,  _ always  _ better together… Sam couldn’t help but stare at his older brother as he drove them home. 

“You better tell that moron of yours to rein in his wild side,” Dean said abruptly, “that was a dick move he pulled, scaring me half to death like that.” 

Sam couldn’t help but huff a laugh at those words. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again,” he assured, “he was just upset. You know he’d never hurt you.” 

“Yeah,” dean scoffed, “that might change the day  _ I  _ mess with  _ his  _ stuff for a change. You know the bastard took my Kathy Ireland poster?” 

Sam chuckled half heartedly at that, staring off into the endless corn fields that stretched out on either side of the highway. It was peaceful, the sky clear and calm. They were the only car on the road. 

“You know,” Dean said quietly, “the other day I was sitting out on the porch with Bobby- just shooting the breeze, it felt exactly like old times. And then, I was about to tell him how much I had missed him, missed the conversations we used to have, and… I couldn’t. Because I never  _ knew  _ this guy. Fuck, he walks like him, talks like him, even  _ thinks  _ like him, but… he’s  _ not  _ him. And I realized that the only Bobby we’ll ever know is still gone.” 

Sam paused, watching his brother with sad eyes. Dean’s gaze was on the road, but his face was pained. 

“Even Mom,” Dean blurted out louder than he meant to, “I know Amara brought her back, and maybe I’m just a fool who can’t remember, but Sammy, sometimes I look at her and I  _ swear  _ she’s not our mother.” 

Silence enveloped the car, and the torment that Dean felt was almost palpable. Sam didn’t know what to say- he’d never known their mother, he’d only ever heard stories and seen the occasional picture from his father or brother. But the Mary they knew now was certainly different than the soft, gentle feminine figure that he’d been told about all his life. He knew what Dean was talking about- sometimes, only sometimes, he would catch her staring at one of them with a gaze that was… completely devoid of maternal affection. She was almost detached, like she’d never known them before, like she had forgotten what it was like to even have children. He knew that she loved them, but sometimes he wondered if it was the wrong kind of love. If she loved them like treasured memories or like close friends... He knew that death changed a person, obviously. There was a reason why it was almost always better for those who died to stay in the afterlife. The way Gabriel explained it, the entire point of death was to give the soul rest and restoration- if it continued to live forever without being given a break, it would start to chip away until it was no longer the same person that it was in life. Maybe that was what was happening with Mary. He knew how much it hurt Dean, more than him because he was the one who actually remembered Mary. He saw the disappointment in his brother’s eyes when their mother would disappear outside for a cigarette without a second glance instead of spending time with them. 

“I guess no one stays the same person.” Sam offered quietly, not knowing what else to say.

“Where they ever even that person in the first place?” Dean asked brokenly, voice rough.

Sam frowned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you… Are you saying that Mom isn’t  _ really  _ Mom?”

Dean sighed heavily, his heart sinking painfully in his chest as he thought of his own feelings towards Jack. Maybe that was how Mary felt about them- maybe she  _ wanted  _ to love them, but… she just didn’t. “No, I…” He huffed in frustration, “I don’t know.” 

“Dean,” Sam said firmly but with concern, “talk to me, what brought this on? Did she say something that would make you think Amara jipped us?”

The older hunter set his jaw, focusing his eyes on the long road ahead of them, sprawling out into the darkness. “I told her about Lucifer,” he said flatly, “what he did to us… How much he ruined our lives, and she- she looked at me with this empty stare, Sam, the coldest stare I’ve ever seen.” He swallowed thickly, and in the shadows of the car, the younger man could see his eyes shining but not shedding tears, “And you know what she said to me? She said, ‘it could be worse. You could be like me.’.”

Sam felt his stomach drop to the ground, his heart hammering in his chest.  _ No wonder Dean has been acting so weird lately,  _ he scolded himself for being so stupid, for not seeing how hurt his brother was,  _ he had to deal with that.  _ He didn’t know if Mary was really the Mom they used to know, but he knew that was  _ definitely  _ not something you said to your child, especially a child who’d literally been through hell and back. And what did she mean, ‘you could be like me?’ What the fuck was that supposed to imply? That she was worse than Hell? He felt anger blossom towards his mother for what she’d done to Dean, the son who’d said nothing but good things about her their entire lives. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Sam said gently, “we’ll talk to her.” 

Dean scoffed bitterly, turning down the country road that would lead them home. “What good is talking to a mother who doesn’t even love her own son?” He murmured.

Sam decided that a moment like this was worth being teased about later. “You know…” He cleared his throat, “You know  _ I  _ love you… right?”

He waited for the teasing, the taunts, the classic ‘man-up’ speech that he’d grown accustomed to, but it never came. Dean was silent, taking in what his younger brother said, before smiling slightly yet genuinely at him. “I know, Sammy.” He whispered gratefully, eyes less pained than they were before, “I’ll always know that.”

Sam smiled back at him in relief, hoping that this situation with their mother would get better sooner than later. He loved his family, loved all of them, but sometimes he wondered if it would’ve just been better for everyone if the alternate versions of the people they lost just left them alone. He felt selfish for even thinking the thought, but it really complicated things and made it harder for old wounds to heal when you were constantly surrounded by the spitting image of your dead loved ones, only to be reminded in the midst of your joy at having them back that they were completely different people. It was almost cruel, in a way. Like dangling what they wanted right in front of them, and then yanking it out of reach the second they grew hopeful. 

They spent the rest of the car ride in silence, neither one of them saying a word about their clasped hands even after they returned home. 

 

* * *

 

The angel’s return to heaven was truly something that an ageless being like Naomi had never seen before. She liked to think that she knew the ropes of the universe pretty well- Hell, she had been single handedly running heaven ever since her father disappeared. Her grace was constantly near depletion from the strength it took to keep heaven open with the few angels they had left. And after Duma’s death, things had only gotten worse. 

She was nearly devoured by anger after hearing of it, enraged at both Castiel for refusing to give her what she wanted in the first place and at Gabriel for killing her. In her ire, she commanded Indra, one of her last living brothers, to go kill them as punishment. Looking back on it now, she was thankful that he refused her order given out of rage. As much as she resented her brothers for what they did, it would be even more self destructive to end their lives as well. 

She sighed deeply, her exhausted soul trembling where it lay. It had been so long since she was last at peace with any of her siblings, that she was beginning to forget what their personalities were like. That terrified her more than she cared to admit. She loved all of her brothers and sisters, and used to know each one right down to their likes and dislikes. Gabriel was the light hearted one, Raphael was the kind and caring one, Duma was the sensitive one… But now, her memories of them were starting to fade. Most of her siblings were dead, and the ones that weren’t were slowly becoming nothing but  _ obstacles  _ to her, these nameless, unrelated beings that held no meaning. It was like her heart had been broken over and over again, so many times to the point where she barely even had one. 

Which is why, when the gates of heaven started vibrating and the familiar cries began to echo throughout the halls, her head snapped up in disbelief. Indra and Ambriel dropped their blades in shock, the metal clattering loudly on the floor.  _ It couldn’t be…  _ But it was. The overwhelming wave of sound encompassing the cries of her brothers and sisters, all of whom should have been dead, nearly knocked her over like a wave. 

They dared to open the door, and what they saw would forever be on the same level as the miracle of creation itself. 

Thousands of her siblings, young and old, stood eagerly outside the gates, calling out to them, asking to be let in. They were tired and worn out, their grace faint and weak, but it was still  _ them.  _ She recognized the unique energy signatures of each and every one of them. Anna, Ishid, Jofiel, Samandriel, all of her beloved siblings who she’d truly believed were gone, were suddenly alive. She tried to convince herself that it was a trick, some cruel game that Lucifer was playing on them… But it couldn’t be, because Lucifer was dead. She’d been monitoring the Nephilim closely, she’d known he had usurped his father’s throne. 

It was only when Indra opened the gates and Anna touched her hand that she realized it was  _ real.  _ She knew what the essence of her sister’s grace felt like as much as she knew her own. Anna was alive. 

Naomi froze as her sister embraced her, hugging her close before Indra and the others were swarmed with the rest of their siblings, each one exclaiming their names in joy and relief. Slowly, Naomi wrapped her arms around her, as if she was afraid Anna would disappear if she did so. But once she felt her solid and firm beneath her palms, she held onto her as if her life depended on it. Indra was laughing loudly as Samandriel and Ezekiel lifted him up on their shoulders, and Ambriel wept as she walked through the dense crowd of angels, reaching her arms out as far as they could go so she could touch as many as possible.They were so busy rejoicing at seeing one another, that none of them noticed the dim lighting of the throne room slowly get brighter. The ominous creaking of the generator ceased, the rusted gates shone again like new, and one by one, the torches that lit the halls flared back to life. 

For the first time in a long time, Naomi let go of her worries on earth, her fears of what the Winchesters would do next and her apprehensions about the future. And for just a moment, heaven felt like paradise again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Let me know what you think of the angel family! More or nah??


	49. Your Reign Has Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick excerpt of the angel's settling in- Naomi's reign of terror finally comes to an end, and the angels say how sorry they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS ONE IS A TEARJERKER!! I REPEAT! HAVE TISSUES READY!!!! This is a missing scene of once the angels get back and figure out everything that happened in their absence.

“Naomi…” Ezekiel started, looking around heaven with wide eyes, “What has happened here?”

The angels had been back for one day, already starting their recovery of regaining their strength and getting their grace back. The remaining angels welcomed them with open arms, nursing as many back to health as they could. 10 years of slavery took a toll, and most of them still could not utilize their grace to its full potential. That would take time. 

Anna was overjoyed to be back, her home and siblings warming her heart with its familiarity and light. But within the time that they had returned, she could tell that something was very wrong. She’d known that their absences would have affected the way heaven was running, but this seemed too severe even for that. There was a lack of… for want of a better word,  _ love.  _ Humans had an abstract concept of love, the way Anna looked at it- love wasn’t just an emotion or a feeling. It was an energy, a substance, a  _ light.  _ It was what fueled heaven and at one time, what fueled the angels. It was an extension of their father himself, something so powerful that no darkness could not be driven away by it. But somehow, heaven was lacking in it.

A small group of them had clustered together after sensing the same distress, looking to one another in concern as they stepped aside from the chaos and into the throneroom where Naomi was looking over the number of souls they had let in that day. 

The head angel looked at her brother in an unreadable mask, tilting her head slightly to the side. “We have… struggled in your absence. You know this, Ezekiel, heaven takes power to-”

“It’s not power,” Samandriel piped up, staring at her, “it’s you.”

Anna closed her eyes in upset, drawing her shawl closer around her shoulders. The soft cotton of the new, clean garment was welcomed on her skin after years of rough mud and wool. 

Naomi didn’t beat around the bush, didn’t pretend that she had no idea what he was talking about. Her eyes narrowed at him, a dangerous shine dancing in the light behind her pupils. She’d hoped that her brothers and sisters wouldn’t have brought this unnecessary business up, but obviously, she was wrong. “And what, pray tell, have I done?” She more dared than questioned. 

Ezekiel looked at his brother warningly, not wanting to start another fight. They’d all been humbled in Hell, their pride being the first of many things to be stripped away from them. Nearly all of them now had no shame in backing down from a confrontation. It was what kept them alive while slaving away under the gaze of demons. But Samandriel had always retained a bit of his feistiness, refusing to bend to what he thought was wrong. 

“I found this,” he said smoothly, holding up the angel tablet for all to see, “you were planning on sealing away heaven, weren’t you?” 

Anna’s hand flew to her mouth and she turned to her sister, praying that it wasn’t true, that Naomi wasn’t capable of doing such a horrible thing as leaving earth to die. She knew that her sister could be ruthless, but she thought that perhaps she would eventually evolve out of the mindset. 

They all had while suffering under Lucifer- their petty vendettas against the human race felt so trivial when your wings were clipped and your grace was stolen, and years of torture and imprisonment caused one to reflect on their actions. 

The more time they spent in Hell, the more they realized how their loyalty had been so misdirected and skewed. “ _ All those years, wasted _ ,” she remembered Ezekiel saying one night when they were all gathered around the fire in one of their work camps, sharing a rare moment when they could speak together, “ _ humans were made to serve and be loved by the highest lord of creation… and we have used them to win our own childish wars born out of jealousy and pride.”  _

_ “Perhaps we deserve to be here,”  _ Balthazar had whispered hoarsely, eyes sad and tired as he stared at the flames, “ _ who now would comfort us? Who now would pity what we have become?” _

_ “The lion does not lie down with the lamb,”  _ Samandriel had protested weakly, still holding fast to the memories of when they fought so valiantly to keep heaven in line. Now, that valiance seemed to resemble arrogance more than anything worthy of honor. 

“ _ And who are we to call ourselves lions?”  _ Ezekiel shot back, his own voice pained, “ _ Who are we to call ourselves anything when we have stooped even lower than the lamb?” _

Samandriel had not replied after that, the last of his pride fading away like sand in the wind as he realized that Ezekiel was right. They  _ had  _ been blinded by their own stupid vanity,  _ all  _ of them. A sort of period of mourning had passed then, as all of the angels began to realize what they had become- zealous, terrifying murderers who tortured and killed anything for being different, just because they thought they were righteous enough. They were sickened by themselves, disgusted at what they had deemed worthy when they were in heaven. It was like someone had held a mirror up to them, and they were shocked at the ugly, horrific monsters that were staring back at them. They felt like small, ungrateful children who’d been given a priceless gift by their parents, only to smash it on the floor and stomp on it until nothing but shattered fragments remained. 

And now, here they were, finally freed from their prison and liberated by Lucifer’s death. They were finally home, only to find out that their sister was still stuck in the past, was still blinded to her own misgivings. 

Naomi pursed her lips, face cold and impassive. “I do what is necessary to keep heaven alive.” She said haughtily. 

“You fool!” Ezekiel exclaimed at Naomi, causing Anna and Samandriel to jump at his outburst, “Have you not figured it out yet? Heaven is connected to the entire universe,  _ including  _ earth! If you leave one part to die, the rest will follow!” 

Naomi felt her cheeks get hot, glaring causticly at her brother. “Watch your tone, little brother,” she warned lowly, “you do not know what I have had to do to keep us alive.”

“ _ Us? _ ” Ezekiel whispered in devastation, his eyes full of hurt as he looked at his sister, “Is that all you can think of? Does nothing else matter to you?”

Anna watched apprehensively as Naomi worked her jaw in frustration, standing up from her chair with regality that only a commanding angel could possess. “It is my job to ensure the safety and prevalence of heaven. It is my top priority-”

“Over  _ everything?”  _ Ezekiel pressed, eyes never leaving her. 

Naomi glanced at him briefly, but upon seeing the pure hurt and look of betrayal in his eyes, she turned away. Why was he acting like she had transgressed against him? He had no right to be so upset when it was her who had to be strong to keep heaven from going under. Couldn’t they see that she was doing what was best? “Yes,” she replied stiffly, “over everything.”

There was a long, suffocating silence that enveloped the room. Anna closed her eyes against the tears that threatened them, feeling Samandriel put his arms around her shoulders comfortingly. It was like grieving another sister all over again, and she didn’t know if her heart could take it. 

“Then you have failed our Father.” Ezekiel finally replied, voice stony and struggling to remain steady. 

“Our Father is not here.” Naomi snapped, shoulders tensed as though she was being attacked. 

“So you take that as an opportunity to desecrate him?” Ezekiel countered, not missing a beat, “To slander him? To destroy his creation, his most beloved children? To  _ replace  _ him?”

Rage was bubbling like boiling water beneath Naomi’s skin, and she didn’t even realize what she was doing as fury overtook her body and she drew her angel blade, pointing it at her brother, “You  _ dare  _ imply that I’d defy my father?” She hissed dangerously, scowling at him.

“You have in every sense of the word.” Samandriel countered, eyeing the human body she was wearing, “These vessels were made out of love by the most high,” he gestured to her vessel, “and you have  _ used  _ them to maim and kill those you deem unfit of your makeshift regime! And even now, you think yourself worthy to sit on the same throne as Him.”

Naomi barked out a sardonic laugh at that, her weapon held evenly in her grasp. “If you truly believe our Father still cares anymore, you’re more naive than I thought, Samandriel.” She murmured venomously, before looking to Ezekiel. “Unlike your older brother, who may actually still have some sense left in his head… Isn’t that right, Ezekiel?” She asked expectantly.

Ezekiel felt his heart break as he stared at his sister, using his grace to see through the past and witness all the terrible things she had done in their absence. And he knew that she was beyond help now. Nothing they could say would change her hardened heart, nothing they could do would save her from herself.

And in using his grace, he saw the cruel fate awaiting Naomi if she continued down her current path. Her own demise was lonely and painful, foretold in a prophecy that she alone had created the moment she decided that she knew better than god. She would be slain alone in an alley on earth, bleeding out on the cold, hard ground after pursuing the Winchesters in another unstable, hysterical quest for righteousness. Her last breaths would be ones of pain, separated from anyone who ever cared about her. He couldn’t save her, but he’d be damned if he let her die that way. Even now, with all her flaws, she was still their sister. He would never allow her to enter Sheol so slowly and alone.

“My sweet sister, _ ”  _ he said wistfully, eyes wet as he stared at the oblivious, seething angel, “This is all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I was too late to save you from yourself. I’m sorry that I was too blinded by own pride to see what you were becoming. You were falling far before we ever did, and I was too selfish to be there when you needed me most. I thought I was fighting the righteous fight, but now, I’ve lost you forever.”

Naomi’s anger faltered for a moment as she stared at him in confusion, frowning at what he’d just said. 

“I will not ask your forgiveness, because I know that what I have done is unforgivable… Just know that I love you and  _ always will. _ ” And with that, Ezekiel drew his own angel blade in a movement so fast, and so calculated, that not even a fraction of a second could pass before it was done. His sword had pierced her corrupted grace instantaneously, giving her no time to feel or register pain before she was gone. 

Her vessel crumpled on the floor, her face frozen in her last expression of confusion. Anna wept softly, sliding to the floor beside her sister, whose trueform had started to ooze out after her death, and they could see just how far gone she truly was. Her once beautiful and graceful wings were tattered and full of holes, almost as if they had begun to rot away. Darkness crept like spider webs along her dull and lifeless skin where galaxies once shone. Her halo was riddled with cracks and chips, and her eyes that were once so kind and caring were empty and devoid. 

She had been dead long before Ezekiel put her out of her misery.

Anna gingerly grabbed the frail edges of her sister’s wings, drawing them over the body in the traditional embrace of death, covering her gently so that she would be presentable when the Sheol came to collect her soul and take her back to The Empty.

The angel tablet shuddered violently on the desk for a moment, before shattering into pieces as the grace of its keeper diminished and grew cold. What was once the stone-etched law of heaven now lay a simple, meaningless stone on the stark, white floor.

Samandriel placed a solemn hand on his brother’s shoulder, watching in sorrow as Anna sat hunched over her sister’s body, her weeping the only sound to be heard in the quiet, chilled room.

 


	50. Who Are You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean confronts his mother, and Sam and Gabe go on a little adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your support! Please leave your reviews at the bottom, your comments are fuel for inspiration!!

In the days that followed their return from Hell, Castiel was slowly becoming more like his old self again. He’d managed to come out of his room long enough to eat dinner with the rest of them, and Dean hadn’t left his side since. The effects of Jack’s rule were palpable on earth, with less demons wreaking havoc and therefore less hunts for them to worry about. The pattern became apparent after Sam did some tracking and research, noting a sizeable change in the amount of murders and deals being made at crossroads. The kid was  _ actually doing _ good work. It still pained the angel to hear his son’s name be mentioned, but now, Dean could see a flash of pride in his eyes whenever they brought up Jack, something that he hadn’t seen before. 

They were sitting at the war table that evening, Sam and Gabe having gone off on a wendigo case with Charlie. The older hunter looked on with worry as he watched the enormous beast take off with Sam on its back, giant wings beating against the air as it flew off into the night sky. He knew Sam was safe, especially with Charlie on their team, but he couldn’t help but worry. He always would- he was an older brother. 

“I am tired,” Cas stated abruptly, causing Dean to glance up at him, “I should go to rest.”

Dean smiled softly at him. “You been talking with your brothers and sisters lately?” He asked, knowing that tapping into angel radio took a lot more out of Cas than it used to. 

Cas’ eyes lit up with a gentle grin, nodding. He had been in a markedly better mood since Anna had returned with the good news, and they had yet to have an in depth discussion on the impact the return of the angels had, but Dean knew it was a good one. Cas spent hours on end meditating in their room, coming back with details and news from heaven about a sibling that he hadn’t heard from in ages. A particular favorite was Ezekiel, who Cas excitedly claimed wanted to visit them soon. It was one of the happiest things that Dean had seen in a while, watching Cas reconnect with his family. It brought him a kind of joy that nothing in the outside world could diminish. 

“Ok, you rest up,” Dean patted his shoulder, rubbing his back slightly, “you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Cas gave him a nod and went to leave, his posture slouching in a slightly adorable expression of exhaustion. 

“And  _ no  _ angel radio!” Dean reminded, pointing a finger at him firmly, “I know you cheat when you think I’m not looking, Cas, I mean it. Go to sleep.”

Cas stared at him with that wide-eyed equivalent to an eyeroll, but he couldn’t hide the smirk that Dean witnessed with glee as he left. 

He was in love. He found himself wide awake sometimes during the nights, looking over at the angel sleeping next to him, wondering what he did to deserve something so amazing. Dean Winchester was a proud man. And with his crazy lifestyle, he never in a million years imagined that he would find love. Hell, he  _ had  _ found it, but he couldn’t have it. At least, that’s what his stupid brain tricked him into thinking for so many years. He often felt sick at the amount of time they’d wasted, all those years of dancing around each other for the sake of not having to confront something new. They could have spent that time together,  _ happy,  _ but he was too afraid to even admit to himself what he was feeling, let alone someone else. He would never say it out loud, but he would be forever grateful to Gabe for pushing him to confront Cas that night. In a way, the archangel was responsible for improving his life in ways he could never imagine.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” A voice came from the corner, and Dean turned to see Mary smiling at him as she leaned against the wall. 

Dean flushed at that, clearing his throat awkwardly and brushing off the sleeves of his jacket. “Oh… um, yeah,” he paused before speaking more definitely, “yeah, I do.”

Mary sighed nostalgically, going to sit down across from her son. “Oh, I remember that stage with your father,” she said gently, “the first few weeks after we started dating. It was… perfect. He was the ultimate gentleman, Dean. You actually remind me of him when I see you with Castiel.”

Dean sputtered at that, both disgruntled at hearing his mother talk about her romance with their father and baffled at the similarity she saw. In his eyes, he was nothing like John. John was braver, tougher, smarter… colder.  “How?” He managed to ask, eyeing her curiously, “Dad said you only dated for a month before getting married.”

Mary’s smile faltered and she looked away, wringing her hands together. “Just the way you’re so considerate, so thoughtful.” She said softly, “Castiel is lucky to have you.” 

Dean felt something that he couldn’t identify if his life depended on it. Then again, that really didn’t mean much. He was never good with feelings, anyway. “I guess, but…” He trailed off before looking at her, “how much do you really know about me?”

Mary frowned, eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” She asked puzzledly. 

Dean leaned back in his chair, eyes never leaving hers. “Well, you only really knew me for four years before,” he swallowed, not wanting to say ‘your death’, “before it happened. That’s not much time to really get to know a person.” 

Mary licked her lips before cocking her head at him. “What do you mean, Dean? Every mother knows her child-”

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem to remember much.” Dean’s outburst took him by surprise, startling slightly at the ferocity in his own voice. He never really thought about how much Mary’s absence hurt him, how it was so much more than just ‘wanting mom back’. 

There was a pregnant pause before Mary clasped her hands together on the table. “I was gone for a long time, Dean. I’m still adjusting to things, you’ll forgive me if I’m not exactly the same as you recall.” She said curtly. 

Dean’s face twisted as he stared at her, shaking his head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you?” He asked in bewilderment and disgust.

“Get what?” Mary bit back defensively. 

“Stop lying!” Dean snapped at her, “Stop hiding from me because you don’t want me to know! I know, ok?”

“Dean, what the hell are you talking about-”

“You don’t love me.” He said the words that chilled the room like an icy glaze, and silence enveloped them for what seemed like eternity. Mary’s eyes were full of hurt, anger, and other emotions, but mainly fear. Dean could tell she felt caught, trapped between two realities. He’d seen it in the victimes they’d interviewed.

“How could you say such a thing?” Mary whispered, still frozen in shock. 

“You don’t love me,” Dean repeated stoically, never wavering, “you don’t love anyone. You can’t. Ever since you’ve been back, you’ve been unable to feel… unable to connect. It drives you up the wall. You know that you  _ should  _ love us, but you can’t make yourself feel what you don’t have. You think you used to love us, back when you were alive, but those are just memories, now, aren’t they?”

Mary’s mouth was slightly open, eyes wet but not yet shedding tears as she stared at her eldest son. 

“Don’t try and lie to me, Mom.” He said roughly, “Or should I even call you that?”

The look on his mother’s face was a mix of sorrow and what a thief would look like if they were caught mid-stealing. She covered her mouth with a shaky hand, looking away from him. His stomach dropped as his worst fears were confirmed. 

“Oh, Dean,” she breathed, voice ragged with tears, “I-I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just, ever since I’ve b-been back,  _ nothing’s  _ made sense, and I know I should have told you sooner, you and Sam, everyone, but I just can’t…” 

She didn’t need to finish. Dean knew what she was going to say.  _ I just can’t love you.  _ He felt his heart break all over again, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he felt like he was losing a loved one. It was that same kind of choking grief that threatened to overwhelm him. 

“Dean, please-”

“Get out.” Dean ground, unable to look at her.

“... What?” Mary gasped lightly, eyebrows furrowing as she stared at him with tears running down her face.  _ Not tears for her children,  _ Dean had to remind himself,  _ tears for her.  _

“I want you out.” Dean said coldly, voice as emotionless as could be, “I was right about you all along. Whatever Amara brought back was  _ not  _ my mother. I don’t know what you are, but you left the human part back in the afterlife. What’s dead is meant to stay that way.”

Mary reached out to him, hurt by his reaction, but Dean jerked his arm away as though he’d been burnt. “Go!” He barked, causing her to startle, “I don’t want you in this bunker, alive or dead. Now get the hell out before I change my mind.”

The blonde haired woman closed her eyes against the pain of the words, standing before he could say anything more. She turned away with a reluctance that was palpable, what what she was yearning for, Dean didn’t know. He watched until she shut the front door behind her, disappearing into the night, leaving him alone.

He hated himself for crying for this woman, this thing that didn’t even want to take the time to get to know not only him, but Sam, the child who she’d never seen grow up. She’d been avoiding them on purpose all this time, and he’d bought the excuse of getting back into hunting like there was no tomorrow. He felt blinded and naive, stupid for letting his hope that his long lost mother would come back shield him from the truth. He didn’t even know what the truth was anymore. Maybe Amara had sent her back without a soul, maybe that and her memories were left in heaven or somewhere else… all he knew were the words that his father had spoken to him so long ago, echoing in his mind; “ _ What’s dead should stay dead, son. Don’t ever believe it ain’t so.” _

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You… Are a total  _ blob,  _ you know that?” Sam half laughed, half questioned as Gabe draped himself over the taller man shoulders. They were lying lazily on the bed in their hotel room, just a few doors down from Charlie’s where they’d decided to stay for the night in some shady motel off the coast of Massachusetts bay. The wendigo hunt had been leading them down all sorts of crazy paths, from a woman who’d witnessed possession to what they were sure was a ghost. They were close to the monster now, Charlie having tracked down the lead to an old indian burial ground outside a small town a few miles away. They’d been traveling for days, and Gabe had made the smart decision to find a place to stay for the night before getting back at it tomorrow morning. 

So, here he was, the angel having ignored any and all concepts of personal space in order to climb next to Sam and snuggle up to him like they  _ weren’t  _ two grown men. 

“Don’t make jabs at me, Samuel, I could kick your overly-tall ass if I wanted to.” Gabriel warned, although his warning was somewhat downplayed by the way he had his face buried in Sam’s flannel chest. 

The younger hunter barked out a laugh at that. “You are seriously on two opposite ends of the spectrum. Man eating dragon by day, complete  _ girl  _ by night.” He teased, but made no move to push his angel away. 

Gabriel pouted, rolling slightly so that he could lock eyes with the human. “I’m not a girl.” He protested defiantly.

Sam smirked at him, ruffling his hair affectionately before staring up at the ceiling. “Sure, you’re not.” He patronized, leaning into the downy softness of the two enormous, feathery wings that had manifested around him like a protective cocoon.

“Alright, well, I’m sorry if I’m a little too ‘attached’ lately,” Gabe grumbled, “it’s not my fault. It’s my nesting time.”

Sam frowned, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Your what?”

Gabriel sighed awkwardly, pressing further into Sam’s chest as if he was trying to hide away from explaining things. “It’s not voluntary, alright? Angels were… designed… to have something to protect, to guard over. Normally, it would be a garrison or a task assigned to us by our father. But, occasionally, it can be a person… like you. So, once in a while, I kinda go overboard in my need to watch over you. Trust me, if I don’t act this way, it feels like I have fire ants crawling on my skin!” 

Sam processed the information slowly, taking in the oddness of it, before a huge grin split over his face. “Oh. My. God,” he said slowly, beaming dumbly at the archangel, “you’re like a giant magpie with arms! That is hilarious!” 

Gabriel flushed at that, whiskey colored eyes rolling in frustration. “A little support would be nice, here, Samsquatch!” He scolded, “I just bore my soul to you, you could at least be considerate.”

Sam took a deep breath to suppress the urge to laugh again, smiling gently at the smaller man. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he placated, rubbing his shoulder gently, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” 

Gabe huffed a sarcastic breath at that, his face unreadable. “It’s no secret, kid,  _ every  _ angel does it. Even Cas.” 

Sam paused at that, thinking back on all the times he could remember when their friend was extra protective over them. Obviously, Sam saw that Dean was always his number one priority, despite the fact that he knew the angel loved him just as much. But because of their apprehension, the chaos that was their lives, and their overall lack of skill when it came to communication, they had to hide how they felt about each other for the longest time, meaning that Castiel probably had to suppress his nesting urge.  _ Cas must’ve had to deal with that on his own _ , Sam thought to himself with a twinge of guilt,  _ that must’ve been tough _ .  

“Don’t worry about him, kiddo,” Gabriel reassured by reading his mind, hugging Sam closer with a shocking amount of strength that one would never have guessed he had just by looking at him, “he’ll be alright. He just needs some time… He has us, he’ll pull through.” 

Sam turned to look at his archangel, eyes narrowed with concern. “What about you?” He asked thoughtfully, “Are  _ you  _ ok? I know what it’s like to watch your brother like that and not be able to do anything.”

A flash of pain darted across Gabe’s face, but as quick as it came, it vanished. “I’m ok, Sammich.” He said softly, “I’ll be even better when he’s back to his old self, though.”

Sam frowned sadly, expression downcast as he thought of Jack. The bunker seemed so quiet without him, so…  _ empty.  _ He had been there since the very beginning, on that night that was both awful and wonderful. When Cas was stolen from them, and Jack was given to them. He remembered the power in the child’s eyes, the raw grace that emanated from him in nervous waves. He was just barely a child, still technically a newborn… Sam had hoped that he’d get to teach the kid about life, get to show him the beauty in it that no one ever showed him. And now, he was gone.  _ No,  _ Sam thought with a hint of pride,  _ he’s not gone. He’s a king. _

“I wish that Jack was here.” He whispered faintly, voice barely perceptible in the quietness of their room. 

There was a pause between them, before Gabriel spoke. “Well, I hate to break it to you, kiddo, but Jack was never meant to stay… He’s a ruler, half archangel, that same conquering blood that ran through Heylel runs through him. You, your brother, Cas… you raised him well here, you taught him how to survive, but… I dunno, it’s like raising a lion cub. At first, they’re all cute and small and you just wanna protect them forever. But eventually, they begin to grow. They grow bigger and stronger moment by moment, until one day, they’re too big for the house you’re living in. And as much as you love them, you know that they’d be miserable if they were forced to stay. So you let them go.”

Sam licked his lips in bewilderment before looking at him. “Who was Heylel?” He asked gently, knowing the subject was touchy for Gabriel, “I mean, I know he became Lucifer, but, apparently, they’re not the same person. So… Who was he?”

A wistful smile tugged at the corner of the archangel’s mouth, and his eyes lit up with that ancient wisdom that Sam would never get tired of seeing. He felt his grace hum happily through their bond, reveling in memories. “He was the first son of God,” Gabe whispered, voice far away, “the morningstar. The pride of the dawn. Born of light and grace, he was  _ the original  _ archangel. He was a soldier, the strongest warrior the universe would ever know. He was the leading example, the perfect son. Everyone wanted to be like him. Everyone wanted to be around him. When Rafael, Michael and I were born shortly after, he was the first thing we saw. He taught us everything we know, from how to fight to how to fly.”

Sam smiled at that. “Sounds kinda like a perfectionist’ idol.” He chuckled. 

“No,” Gabriel said softly, shaking his head, “I mean, he was, but that wasn’t the main reason why you wanted to be around him. Don’t get me wrong, the guy was an awesome strategist, warrior, the smartest being you’d ever know, but the way he’d look at you…” Gabriel trailed off, “he made you feel like you were doing everything right. He understood the beauty of simply existing, of life. He saw it in all of us. It was his greatest joy to just  _ be alive.  _ To  _ love.  _ He loved in a way that I’d never seen before, and in a way I’ve never seen since.”

The angel’s eyes dimmed slightly, the light faltering in them. “Which was why,” he muttered, “we were  _ so sure  _ he would love humanity. It was his purpose, to care for living things. It was what made him the angel of  _ light.  _ But when our Father made man…” Gabriel smiled softly at Sam, “you were the most amazing things we had ever seen. A soul made flesh. You were  _ so beautiful…  _ And when, when Father showed you to us, we were all overjoyed. We thought he would be ecstatic about you guys, there was  _ so much to love  _ and nothing to hate. But when he saw you, he-” Gabe’s brows furrowed in upset, frowning at a memory that was no longer real, “he broke. He couldn’t understand the one creation that was designed to be loved by heaven. He couldn’t see it, the light and the hope that we saw in you. We thought he was the strongest being to ever come into existence, he could overcome anything, the Darkness, the Mark, but… But he couldn’t overcome you. 

He couldn’t understand how something so different, so abstract, could be more precious than us. He mistook his own pride for my Father’s betrayal, he thought that by loving you, he would be loved less. He thought that God abandoned him, but I saw-” his voice broke momentarily, faltering before he swallowed thickly, “I saw my father’s face when he rebelled against our home. It was the face of a parent who had lost their child, Sam. Lucifer thought he was happy to send him away, but he was  _ devastated.  _ He was forced to cast out his  _ first born child, his  _ shining son,  _ his  _ everything. It nearly destroyed him. Hell, it nearly destroyed  _ Michael!  _ He’s the one who actually had to banish him, sword and all. 

But I think the worst part… the worst part was watching the light fade from his eyes, and he didn’t know he was wrong. He  _ didn’t know,  _ Sam, Heylel died before he knew that he was never betrayed, his entire rebellion was based on a lie. God never disowned him. He loved him.”

Sam watched with wide, wet eyes as he finally understood the tragedy of Lucifer’s story. A bright, beloved angel whose pride and misunderstanding cost him everything. He was so entrenched in his own grief at what he thought was happening, that he never got around to understanding what was reality and what wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if Dean thought he didn’t love him, if his older brother died thinking anything but that. 

“I… I’m so sorry, Gabriel.” Sam said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “I wish I could bring him back for you.”

Gabriel huffed a dry laugh at that. “I do, too… But, then, I don’t.” 

Sam frowned at him, confused. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“‘Cause having him back would mean having to go back to before I met you.” He said with a grin, that face in the front of sorrow making Sam feel like everything would be ok.


	51. Castiel's Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finds the need to stretch out his own wings, and Dean is shocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, people, some dragon!form Cas at your service! Enjoy and leave your reviews!

Castiel’s sleep was deep and dreamless, a slightly unsettling feeling to the angel. He supposed that he would never fully get used to such a human ordeal, but the idea of your body and mind going completely unaware and vulnerable for hours on end left him unsettled. His joints ache from laying curled up in a tight ball all the time, isolated in his room, wallowing in his own sorrow. Only Sam’s words had been able to rouse him from his grief recently, and that was a slow process. His heart ached in a way that he never thought it could, and a part of him still felt like he’d failed Jack and Kelly Kline. But despite the weight of those emotions, a sprout of hope and pride had begun to blossom in him. Jack had conquered Hell.  _ His  _ Jack, the boy  _ he  _ raised, was so strong and so capable, he’d managed to overthrow one of the most powerful archangels of all time. He had taken control of a place that had been nothing but chaos for so long. He’d tamed the untameable. Maybe, just  _ maybe,  _ he had done something right…

It was the sudden jolt of grace through his bones that had him wide awake. He hadn’t felt that level of acceleration of power in  _ years.  _ He knew what it meant, and failed to suppress a groan at his situation. Being bound up in a vessel without any form of expression was extremely unhealthy for both angels and demons alike- their grace would grow weak and small if not allowed to roam, and right now, Castiel felt like he was going to explode.  _ Why can’t I simply enjoy Jimmy Novak’s vessel?  _ He thought wearily to himself,  _ The man gave his life for me, the least I could do is enjoy it. _ But the need to stretch his wings was undeniable.

Cas never had the confidence of his siblings, least of all, Gabriel. Gabriel was a beacon of light, constantly radiating strength and grace that was contagious. His dragon form was beautiful and strong, massive and all encompassing. In ancient times, his brother’s wingspan had been known to overshadow entire villages. His golden scales shimmered with every color imaginable, and his feathered wings were a breathtaking amber rusty hue that had all the other angels jealous. Out of all the eldest siblings, he was considered the most beautiful.

But Castiel’s own form was nothing to ride home about. He was constantly looking for ways to hide it, and though he knew that being self conscious of looks was superficial, he couldn’t help but dislike his form. He was the youngest of all the angels of heaven, the last celestial being made, so he was the smallest. Where Gabriel’s dragon form was the size of a large jet, he was no bigger than a school bus. His wings had yet to grow in their feathers, so they were leathery like a bat’s instead of smooth and shiny like an eagle’s. His scales weren’t a warm, welcoming gold, but rather a cold and icy blue/gray. He didn’t look at all menacing, and his horns were barely there, small, spiky stubs sticking out of the sides of his head. He was still spiny, his back and the sides of his neck rippling with the webbed spines created for balance that slowly got smaller with age. The only thing he could do well enough was breathing fire, and even then he was sure it took him more effort than it took Gabriel. He wasn’t even mature enough to blind anyone with his dragon form yet as Gabriel could. He didn’t have that type of power.

Sighing, he sat up as quietly as he could, not wanting to alert Dean or anyone else. The last thing he needed was for his family to see him like this. He just had to fly a few laps around, stretch out his limbs, and be done with it.  _ It’ll be fine,  _ he assured himself,  _ if I get it over with now, I’ll be good for the next millenia.  _

He padded carefully over to the window, mindful of the creaky wooden floorboards of the bunker, and lifted it open. He silently thanked whoever built the structure for giving it well oiled window hinges, taking in a breath of fresh air as it opened soundlessly. He undressed and folded his clothes neatly on the bed, not wanting to ruin anything the Winchesters had bought for him, before closing his eyes and leaping out into the night sky. 

An immediate rush of relief and endorphins filled his body as he glided through the air, the aches and pains of his joints quickly leaving him as he stretched. His grace thrummed contentedly beneath his scaly skin, and the cool sensation of the night air beneath his wings was undeniable. The world looked so small from where was, high above the treetops- the bunker was but a small brick cube, the few lights on emanating from the inside. The surrounding forest was starting to turn with the colors of fall, and beneath the pale light of the full moon, it looked almost ethereal. 

He felt guilty hiding this part of him from Dean, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell him. He’d seen the fear in the hunter’s eyes when he saw Gabriel flying with Sam on his back- he didn’t want him to be scared of him like that. How could he not be? Cas thought dejectedly, for years, dragons have been a symbol of doom and destruction in human civilizations. It was impossible not to be afraid. He was suddenly envious of Sam and Gabriel’s open, unfiltered relationship that they had with each other. He knew it wasn’t fair to compare romantic relationships with platonic ones, let alone a grace bond endowed by god, but it was true. They knew everything about each other, and therefore didn’t have to carry the burden of the unknowns with them. He would always be happy that his older brother had someone to love and take care of him, but a part of him wished that he could have that with Dean without having to worry about his true forms.

Suddenly winded and out of breath, Castiel realized that he’d need to stop.  _ It really has been a while,  _ he thought exhaustedly, thinking back to when he used to fly for miles without tiring out like this. He’d only been in the air for about 30 minutes and he was already needing a break? It made him feel, as Dean had so jokingly called him, ‘old’.

Using his grace to silence the sound of his talons on the roof, Castiel flapped a few more times before lowering himself onto the roof of the bunker in a comfortable perch. He leaned on his hooked elbows above the second floor balcony, letting his spines ripple with the evening breeze. It  _ did  _ feel nice to fly… only occasionally, of course. 

His happiness didn’t last for long, however, when a few stray roof shingles scattered from beneath his sharp talons, sliding off the side of the roof before hitting the ground and shattering loudly. He heard movement from inside, and immediately tried to transform back.  _ What am I going to say if they find me?  _ He thought, frantically trying to come up with excuses for as to why he was on the roof in the middle of the night. It had been far too long since he exercised this form, though, and switching back was taking too long.  _ Why did this have to happen now- _

“Hold it right there!” He heard a gruff voice bark, and turned his head to see Dean on the balcony with his colt pointed at the roof, ready to defend their home. When he turned his long neck to face him, however, the hunter’s jaw dropped and so did the colt. Dean  _ never  _ faltered when it came to his weapons.

Cas’s heart was beating a million miles an hour as he stared at Dean with wide eyes, frozen on the spot. His long, spined tail flicked back and forth nervously, and as slow as he possibly could, he craned his neck downward to face Dean on his level, trying to convey that he meant no harm. 

“W-what are you?” Dean muttered, eyes wide and full of terror as he looked up at the beast in front of him. It looked exactly like Gabriel, but it  _ definitely  _ wasn’t him. He blindly reached for his colt again, never breaking eye contact with the dragon.  _ Why hasn’t it killed me yet?  _ He thought in confusion, watching the giant thing carefully. Usually when it came to monsters, they’d either gut you instantly or wait around and play games with you. This thing didn’t seem to be doing either. 

It crooned low and rumbling, not a roar and not a growl. It sounded almost… soothing? No, hell if that was the right word. It was vaguely the same sound the impala’s engine made when she was revved up after getting an oil change. 

It blinked slowly at him, glowing blue eyes sliding shut before opening again. There was something about those eyes- something  _ familiar…  _ Something  _ insanely familiar…  _ It couldn’t be…

“Cas?” Dean breathed in disbelief, watching the beast. 

Castiel nodded gently, every movement deliberate so as not to scare Dean. 

The gun clattered from his hand once more, and his jaw hit the floor as he stared at his boyfriend, now  _ dragon.  _ “W-w-what… H-how… You’re like Gabriel, aren’t you? This is a thing that all angels have?” He stammered.

The angel nodded once more, almost ashamedly. He didn’t want Dean to find out this way. He was probably going to think he was even more of a freak now. And what was even worse? His transformation was still taking forever. He could feel his vessel slowly starting to materialize, but he was nowhere near ready to shift.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asked while taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 

Castiel hung his head apologetically, looking at the ground before gesturing to the gun on the floor. 

Dean closed his eyes briefly, gingerly walking over to the dragon. “Cas,” he said softly, voice barely above a whisper, “c’mon, now, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m sorry I pointed the gun, ok? I didn’t know it was you.”

Surprised at Dean’s reaction, or lack thereof, Castiel felt waves of relief coarse through him as he pressed the tip of his snout against the hunter’s outstretched hand. Dean drew a sharp intake of breath at the feeling of the rough scales, brushing his fingertips over it. It didn’t feel foreign, to his own disbelief, it felt so familiar, so  _ Cas.  _

“Cas,” he said roughly, lifting his eyes back up to meet the dragon’s, “I need your advice. Something happened, I…” 

Cas tensed in worry and concern, crooning slightly at the tone of Dean’s voice.

“... I told Mom to leave. And I don’t don’t know if she’s coming back.”


	52. A Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short connecting chapt. that needed to be added- fluff and sabriel snuggles ensue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your comments below, they inspire me to write more!

_ “Slow down, Khastiy’el, you’ll hurt yourself!” Gabriel laughed as he watched the newly hatched fledgling tumble through the clouds, small wings just barely sprouted.  _

_ “That’s funny, coming from you, Gavri’el,” A deep voice chided, and before he could reply, warm arms of grace enveloped him and lifted him up on a wing the color of platinum, “you would always fly away whenever one of us wasn’t looking.” _

_ The air was soft and sweet, and the garden grew lushly beneath them. He could hear his sisters singing, voices melting across the universe like butter on a warm slice of bread.  _

_ “This is no time for jokes, he’s going to get hurt!” Gabriel protested in concern.  _

_ Heylel gently corralled Castiel back towards the group with his outer wing, boxing him into a corner before scooping him up as well. At just two days old, the fledgling was simply a bundle of glowing, innocent grace with two black wings and eyes wider than the sun. “You must always protect our youngest brother, Gavri’el,” Heylel reminded him gently, placing the energetic ball in Gabe’s arms, “but you cannot trap him to keep him safe.” _

_ Heylel’s silver blonde hair waved in translucent strands about his shoulders as he bent down slightly to the earth, using one of his large, strong wings to shield a lone flower from the sun. “If you keep something too close, you will suffocate it,” he warned, and the flower wilted without the bright light of heaven that shone down upon Eden, “but if you allow it to grow-” he drew his wing back again, and the flower blossomed up taller than before, “-it will bloom for many years to come. Remember this, Gavri’el.” _

_ Gabriel smiled at his older brother, eyes glimmering with a respect and warmth that only two best friends could share. He gingerly supported his youngest brother’s grace, and encouraged the wings to flap some more. Castiel’s wings worked quicker and quicker, and before he knew it, he was hovering above his hand.  _

_ Their cheers and laughter echoed throughout the garden, long after they’d stopped playing. _

Gabriel woke from the dream with a gasp, chest hitching in breath as he rubbed at his eyes. He sat up and looked around frantically, but calmed when he realized he was back in the motel room. Sam was sound asleep next to him, snoring softly. The bedside clock glowed 5:00am, and that’s when he remembered where he was.  _ That’s right, we killed that wendigo yesterday _ …  He recalled crashing back at the motel after Sam refused to drive them back when they were all so exhausted, insisting it could wait till the morning. 

He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. He usually woke up from memories like this and his heart felt like it’d been driven through with a knife. This time, however, he wasn’t anguished. Sorrow was still a gentle tug within him, but instead of being consumed in overwhelming grief, he felt…  _ happy.  _ Simply, plainly happy. That used to be his life, his family. And instead of mourning all the time they no longer had, he was grateful for the time they did. He layed back down, eyes closing as he threw a protective arm over Sam. He could get some more sleep from here. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


The wendigo hunt had turned out to be way easier than they’d thought- the following day, the three of them had tracked it down to a deserted warehouse a few miles away. There’d been a fight, but not much of one, before putting a silver bullet through its heart. The corpse was weak and frail, almost like the monster had been struggling to survive at all. Charlie had shot it a few more times before salting and burning, just to be sure. 

Sam couldn’t help but be slightly shocked at the ease of small hunts like these as he reflected on it. There was a time, not too long ago, when it was just him and Dean, and their entire lives revolved around things like Wendigos. Now, with everything that had happened since they met Castiel, ghosts and monsters seemed so insignificant, so small and  _ easy  _ in the grand scheme of things. He knew that anything could go horribly wrong on a routine hunt, but compared to facing down archangels and meeting  _ Chuck,  _ an angry Native American revenge spirit felt like child’s play.  _ God, my life is fucked up,  _ he thought half amusedly to himself as he loaded their things into the impala that Dean had so reluctantly let him take. 

“Oh, boy, that cheap mattress is taking its toll on my back,” Gabe complained, helping Sam unload his rifle full of witch killing bullets, “I haven’t been this sore since I slept on a hay bale in that 1600’s tavern. God, that place was trashy.” 

Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, huffing a chuckle as she shrugged on her jacket. “I always forget how old you are,” she pointed out, shutting the trunk of the car and earning a mock offended scowl from Gabriel, “what do you and Sam even talk about?”

“Actually, he’s pretty well versed on stuff,” Sam admitted, hopping in the driver’s seat, “I mean, he knew what Dean meant when we were talking about Rambo.”

“So, he’s not like your  _ other  _ angel friend in the trench coat? The one who talks like a medieval dungeon keeper?” Charlie asked. 

“Hey! No need to discuss a person in front of them! I’m right here!” Gabriel protested from the backseat, folding his arms as he frowned at Sam. 

“Sorry, Gabe.” Sam placated warmly, reaching behind to pat him on the shoulder without taking his eyes off the road, “I forget that you’re not as quiet as your brother.”

“Speaking of that,” Charlie intoned, turning around to look at the archangel, “what’s been going on in heaven since your siblings got back? Isn’t that, like, a super big deal?” 

Gabriel huffed a laugh at that, folding his arms. “An entire race of angels returning to a dying and desolate celestial afterlife in one day? Yeah, that’s what one might refer to as ‘cosmic shock’.”

Sam frowned at that- Gabriel had barely spoken about the return of his siblings since Anna came and told them the good news, and now that he thought about it, he’d been awfully quiet. “Don’t you wanna… Talk to them, Gabe? Have any of them reached out to you?” He asked. 

Gabriel’s face lost a bit of its mirth, but the smile that remained on his lips was genuine. “Of course I want to talk to them,” he admitted softly, “all these years, I’ve been thinking they were dead, I… I don’t even know where to begin… It wouldn’t matter, though. Even if they did have time to come down to earth and see me, they’re busy fixing heaven. Apparently, it was in worse shape than any of us thought. They’re already low on grace after years of my brother’s torture, but they’re using what they can spare to try and make things right again. It’s not an easy task by any means- apparently, even Naomi was drained by the time they finished her off.”

Sam’s eyes widened at the mention of the angel who’d managed to cause more problems for them than many demons ever could. “Naomi’s dead?” He exclaimed.

Gabriel nodded somberly. “She’d lost it. She wanted to seal off heaven, and I guess all these years of trying to hold everything together finally ate away at her. By the time Ezekiel got to her, she’d stopped making any sense. She wasn’t… she wasn’t herself, anymore. I don’t think she had been for a long, long time.” 

Charlie looked sympathetically at him, face gentle. Sam and the rest of the Winchesters had picked up on her soft spot for Gabriel right away, almost as soon as they met. In a way, she and the archangel were… kindred spirits. With their love of laughter, humor, family… they seemed more similar than different. “I’m sorry about that, Gabriel.” She said quietly. 

The archangel shrugged, looking out the window. “Not like she had a chance, anyway,” he muttered, “besides, she came after Dean and Sammy way too many times for me to ever be ok with her again. Which is actually kind of ironic, because she used to be known for her serenity.”

Sam balked at that, scoffing. “ _ Serenity?”  _ He asked sardonically, “She tried to murder Castiel and convince Dean he hated him.”

Gabriel twiddled his thumbs, nodding at that. “A few eons can change a person, Sam a lamb,” he murmured, “before all of this, I mean… She was the calmest angel you could meet. I’m telling you, nothing could rattle her. She was always sitting at my father’s feet, meditating or praying or whatever. She was consistent, steady. We all came to her with our problems… Maybe that’s what drove her over the edge.” 

Sam’s face softened at that, marveling at how different of a person this Naomi sounded compared to the monster who’d tried to kill them. It seemed like a lot of Gabriel’s siblings used to be different, used to be a 180 compared to what they were in their former glory. Come to think of it, they knew very little about the angels. Only that they’d been after the Winchesters for as long as they could remember, and fought ruthlessly for control at any and all costs. Maybe.. Maybe what they knew was wrong. Gabe and Cas certainly didn’t live up to par with what angels ‘should be’ like. 

“I don’t think we’ve had this few cases in a long time,” Sam said suddenly in an effort to change the subject, “Jack must really know what he’s doing.”

“The nephilim?” Charlie asked confusedly, “I thought he was in hell, how does he have anything to do with wendigos?”

“Demons and the power of hell are the root of all monsters,” Gabriel explained, “without corruption from Hell, ghosts, wendigos, and spirits are all kind of like cars without gas. They just can’t do anything. The kid’s really tightening up security down there if this is the only hunt we’ve had in days- he’s starting to reverse the mess his dad made.” 

Sam smiled slightly at that, eyes twinkling with fondness. “He’s a fighter. Has been since the day I met him.” He murmured, but not without a twinge of sadness tugging at his heart. Not a moment passed when Sam didn’t miss the boy’s smile or innocent laugh. He was proud of Jack and all that he’d accomplished, but at the end of the day, all Sam wanted for him was to be happy. And from earth, the only thing he could do about that was pray Jack didn’t forget himself in the chaos. 


	53. Glide Over The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean have a long, important talk. Charlie has the time of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading! Please please PLEASE leave your reviews below! I love hearing what you guys think!

“Cas, why didn’t you tell me you could do this before?” Dean asked gently, inching closer to the dragon that was still perched on the edge of the bunker roof. 

The dragon lowered its head in what looked like shame, avoiding eye contact with the Winchester. That was hardly an answer, and Dean was about to start playing a guessing game as to why this was a secret when Cas suddenly… dissolved. His scales shed into thin air, and he shrunk until he was back to his normal self, the familiar face of Jimmy Novak staring back at him. He was completely naked, shivering in the night air and covering himself as best he could. Dean could only move his mouth up and down silently in shock, never having seen something transform like that before.

“Perhaps this is a conversation better held indoors.” Cas stated gravelly, his voice rough and upset. 

Snapping himself out of his reverie, Dean shook his head and reached out a hand to the man, leaning against the wall to reach as far as he could. “Shit, yeah, sorry about that… Here, let me help you.”

Castiel muttered his thanks as Dean helped him jump down from the ledge of the roof to the balcony. His joints were aching that familiar pain whenever they had just shifted, and he could tell it would take a lot of ice and epsom salt to make this episode go away. He was still searching for an explanation to give Dean when they walked back into his room, closing the balcony doors behind them. He quickly grabbed the worn but soft bathrobe from beneath his bed, shrugging it on quickly to preserve whatever dignity he had left. 

“Ok, spill.” Dean demanded, face tight with lines of worry, “What the hell just happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Cas sighed sadly, hands clasped on his lap. “I never meant to keep it a secret from you,” he said quietly, “I just… I didn’t want to frighten you, and I knew that if you saw me like… that… I would just seem like even more of a freak than I was before. I didn’t want you to see me as some terrifying, other worldly monster. I just want to be Castiel.”

Dean’s face softened and he pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on at those words.  _ I’ve made him think like that,  _ he thought guiltily, recalling the beginning of their relationship, and even later on, when he’d constantly point out any and all mistakes Cas made, excluding him and giving the cold shoulder because he was afraid of what he didn’t understand. “Cas, man, you’re not a freak, ok? You know I don’t think that.” He said lowly, “No one here sees you that way, not Sam, not Gabe, and sure as hell not me.”

Cas looked up at him with those piercing blue eyes, wide and slightly hopeful. “Really?” He asked apprehensively.

Dean nodded, “Really.” He confirmed.

Cas felt an enormous weight being lifted off of his chest, and it meant the world to him.  _ What did I do to deserve Dean Winchester?  _ He though happily,  _ What did I do to deserve any of the Winchesters, for that matter…  _ Cas froze in realization, remembering what Dean had just told him. Mary. “What happened to your mother?” He asked concernedly, internally scolding himself for almost forgetting about Dean’s troubles entirely. 

Dean frowned, whatever light he had in his eyes before vanishing. He sat down on the bed beside the angel, rubbing at his temples dejectedly. “I sent her away.” He said roughly, staring at his shoes.

Hoping that nothing had gone wrong while he was out flying, Cas pressed further. “Did she try to harm you?” He asked insistently, “Was there a fight?”

Dean shook his head. “No, she didn’t try and ‘harm me’... I just… Damn, I feel awful saying this, but ever since she’s been back, I’ve had this feeling. I don’t think she’s my mom. Not really.”

Castiel furrowed his brows in thought, confused. “Did you see any signs of possession?” He asked. No demon should be able to enter the bunker with everything warded so heavily- if Mary had been possessed, she shouldn’t have been able to even walk through the front door, let alone sleep here. 

“No,” Dean replied, his voice low and rough with pain, “at first, I thought that was what it was, but… It’s not that.” He paused, trying to collect himself, before finally locking eyes with the angel. “What I mean is, she’s not my  _ mom.  _ She doesn’t love me  _ or  _ Sam. I-I mean, she used to, I remember it! But ever since she came back, she’s just been indifferent. Like we’re her friends or whatever, but… Not her sons.”

Cas’ heart broke at the hurt in Dean’s eyes, the rejection the man felt raw and merciless. The maternal bond was one of the strongest among humans, Cas knew that. No matter what age someone was, it would always hurt the same if their parent turned them away. But this seemed so out of character for the Mary Winchester that Dean had often described, so different than the picture of a loyal, doting mother. 

“I’m sorry, Dean, I should have noticed sooner. I wasn’t paying enough attention.” Cas said thoughtfully, daring to rest a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What did she do when you confronted her? Was it anything like Sam’s demeanor when he lost his soul?”

Dean shook his head, his face a mix of bewilderment and pain. “No, she seemed almost… sad about it. Like she wanted to… love us… but couldn’t. I don’t even know what that means, but it was like something in her was missing.” 

Cas frowned in deep thought, using all the mental power he had to try and figure this out. If she felt guilty about neglecting her sons, then that meant her soul was not gone. Soulless beings were incapable of feeling anything at all. But if she failed to bond with the children she once loved so dearly, then something was clearly blocking her from picking up where she left off in life. It broke Castiel’s heart to say what he would, but he had no choice. “Dean, I mean no offense to you nor your mother, but…” He paused, “Are you sure this is the work of something supernatural? Many humans have... trouble… adjusting after being brought back, you know that.”

Dean didn’t so much as flinch, shaking his head in the negative. ”Of course I know,” he whispered roughly, the memories of hell banging loudly on the cage Dean had locked them in deep within his mind, “but this isn’t like that. When I came back, I was fucked up, but I didn’t just  _ forget  _ an entire portion of my life. Love isn’t like that. No matter  _ what  _ happens or how much time passes, you can’t just ‘stop’ loving someone. It’s always there, even if you need a little time to find it again.”

Cas smiled slightly at that, silently marveling that after everything the man had been through, he could still have so much insight. “Alright,” he said softly, “then I will start searching. We’ll look for whatever’s causing your mother to act this way, and we shall fix it. Together.”

Dean looked at him with a shimmer in his eyes that could only be described as adoration. Out of all the angels he’d ever met, Cas was the only one who fit the definition of what he’d always thought the word meant. A literal godsend. He leaned in slowly, the moonlight casting pale beams of light across Cas’s face. Their lips were inches apart from each other when a familiar roar rang out through the night sky, distant but getting closer. 

Castiel smiled with his eyes closed, leaning his forehead against Dean’s. “The others really do have terrible timing, don’t they?” He muttered. 

Dean huffed a laugh at that, eyes slightly less pained. Maybe this was love, he thought to himself, when you still have to tell your brother that your own mother is a shell of herself and abandoned you, when you still have the weight of the world on your shoulders, and that person could still make you smile.  

* * *

  
  


Gabriel’s wings flapped loudly over the now early morning air, each  _ thwump  _ sounding like a large blanket being spread out over the earth. His shadow covered the treetops below them, and his spined tail flicked back and forth like a wind sail in behind them. Every now and again, he let out that signature metallic roar. 

“Woooooo!!!!” Charlie screamed at the top of her lungs, holding on to the dragon’s scaled back for dear life, “This is the BEST THING EVER!” 

Sam smiled at being able to hear her even from the impala, casting a glance at the pair in the side view mirror while he drove Dean’s prized possession down the highway and towards home. Halfway through the drive, Charlie had started begging to feel what it was like to fly. Sam  _ should _ have been nervous about letting her onto the back of a giant dragon, but in reality, he trusted Gabe more than anyone in the entire universe, and knew they would both be safe. 

_ “You owe me big time after this, kiddo,”  _ he spoke telepathically, flying low enough to still be in Sam’s view,  _ “I am NOT a petting zoo, and here I am, giving rides for free.” _

Sam snorted at that, turning onto the exit ramp that would carry them home.  _ “Please, it’s not like you don’t love showing off whenever you get the chance.”  _ He quipped,  _ “And I thought you told me you give lots of girls rides for free.” _

He smirked at the embarrassment that he felt on Gabriel’s side, his grace rippling in small waves of annoyance.  _ “Don’t even pretend that this is in any way comparable!”  _ Gabriel scolded,  _ “You don’t have to go at me just because you’re jealous that I have way more game than you.” _

Sam laughed out loud at that, his voice echoing in the empty car, “ _ Sure,”  _ he patronized sarcastically,  _ “‘cause that’s what this is all about.” _

Charlie let out another whoop of pure adrenaline, watching in awe as the world flew beneath her. She could see the bunker from here, the building coming closer and closer into view, when a sudden gust of wind came out of nowhere. The sheer power of the tailwind knocked her back several feet, and even though the air had been robbed from her lungs, she still found herself screaming. She grasped for purchase at the dragon’s large spines, gripping the webbing as tightly as she could. She heard Gabriel trill in concern, but as they were still several hundred feet in the air, there wasn’t much he could do about it. 

She could vaguely hear Sam’s voice calling to her from below, but it sounded so far away and faint that she couldn’t make out what it was saying. She didn’t dare look down, using all the strength she had to drag herself back to the beasts’ shoulder blades, clinging to the sharp hip bone of the creature as she tugged herself forwards. The chilled night air rushed all around her, howling as if begging for her attention. 

Her relief grew when she allowed herself to glance up briefly and saw that they had arrived, Gabriel flapping his wings slowly as he circled the field to land. With one last grunt of determination, she pulled herself back up to where she’d been before, finally regaining her balance just as the archangel made contact with the ground. His talons sunk deep into the earth, and he roared from deep within his throat. Charlie breathed heavily, still trying to catch her breath when she saw Sam run out of the car towards them. She patted Gabriel on the back gently, giving him a cursory smile as he lowered his wing for her. She slid down to the ground with ease, stomach finally starting to settle when she felt the earth beneath her feet. 

“Oh my god, Charlie, are you ok?” Sam exclaimed, breathless as he made his way over to her, “I am so sorry, I thought you would be safe-”

“Sam,” Charlie cut him off with a finger to his lips, smiling, “I’ll be honest with you. That,” she turned to the dragon who was still sitting on the lawn, taller than the bunker next to him, “was fucking  _ amazing.”  _

Sam barked out a laugh of disbelief at that, internally trying to calm himself down from watching her almost completely fall off mid flight. 

“However,” she murmured, “I think  _ you  _ should be the one doing the flying from now on. For me, one ride was enough awe to last an entire lifetime.”

Sam smiled at her in relief, and they both looked up to Gabe, who roared one last time before flapping his wings again, taking off to circle the skies above the bunker like he so often did, just as Dean opened the front door. 

  
  



	54. Mallory’s Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mallory finally tells her story of why she became a demon, and her friendship with jack begins to grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for all your comments, they are my fuel to write! Let me know if you’d like to see more or less of some characters, as this story will be wrapping up soon.

“It is late, my lord.” Mallory said quietly, standing by as Jack stood focused on the large, fraying book he was reading. He’d been concentrating for hours, leafing through the registry of all the souls accounted for in Hell. Name after name, the pages seemed endless in length, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from memorizing each and every one of them. 

He looked up at Mallory for a moment, briefly acknowledging her. “I know,” he said, “if you’d like, you are dismissed.” 

The demon pursed her lips slightly, pausing for a long beat before walking over to the young king. Ferdinand’s low, soft snores echoed through the large stone walls of the throne room. He lay fast asleep on the ground, surrounded by a pile of bones. 

“Do not spend your days recounting the fates of the dead, your grace.” She said, resting a tentative hand on the parchment that Jack had opened. 

The boy exhaled curtly, running a hand through his hair. “Why not?” He asked tiredly, but he closed the book with a loud thud. “I am the ruler of Hell. Isn’t my job to know which souls are in my charge?”

Mallory smiled softly. “No,” she murmured, “it is not your job to know them. It is your job to look after them, to keep charge of them. But more importantly, to keep the world safe from them.”

“If that is my job, then what’s the harm in knowing their names?” He asked suddenly, eyes drawn in emotion, “They were  _ people.  _ Each one of these entries,” he gestured to the heavy book, “had a  _ life…  _ a family.” 

The relationship between Jack and his personal servant had grown over the weeks, slowly turning from a distant mistrust to a solid form of friendship. He could trust her, be honest with her, and he found that out of all the demons, she was the one who remained the most human. She had not yet lost her ability to feel, and her wisdom surprised him.

“They did,” she admitted, gently taking the book from Jack’s hands and setting it back down on the wooden shelf in the corner, “but the path they chose led them here. They relinquished their rights to a family, to friends because the choices they made.”

Jack shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he took a seat on the throne. “How could anyone possibly choose this?” He asked, swallowing at the memory of seeing souls being tormented in the fiery pits, the screams echoing throughout the chambers.

Mallory sighed, sitting on the edge of the armrest beside Jack. “It is tragic truth of free will, my lord,” she said lowly, “mankind is given life, and they alone decide how they spend it. As you can obviously tell, many choose to live a lifetime of pleasure in exchange for an eternity of pain.”

Jack fumbled with his crown, running his fingers over the smooth obsidian before taking it off for a moment. The ringlet was light as a feather, but somehow when he wore it, it seemed to possess an immeasurable heaviness. He supposed he still wasn’t recovered from the trauma of watching his father be dragged away from him. Castiel’s cries haunted him at night, and no amount of distractions could make him forget. By day, he was making hundreds of decisions every second- what gates to keep open, which ones to close, how many souls to let in, how many souls to let out, how many corrupt demons to kill, how many loyal ones to promote. It was exhausting, and he often found himself needing a few hours to sit in silence and recharge his grace, which he’d been relying on now more than ever. Thankfully, his power grew as he did, so he quickly saw an increase in the amount of time he could exercise his grace.

“But some of them are remorseful,” Jack said, voice barely above a whisper, “some of them want to repent.”

Mallory’s brown hair glistened a sheen of auburn in the light of the fire-lit torches, and her eyes were somber. “No, my lord,” she said softly, “they feel remorse for  _ themselves,  _ they regret their  _ own  _ suffering. That is why they are here; because they do not regret the suffering the have caused others, and they never will. A heart hardened into stone cannot go back to being a heart of flesh.”

Jack looked at her, knowing she was right. He tried to see the good in everybody, but he’d quickly learned that to many people, good just wasn’t important. He supposed he would never understand that, never be able to wrap his mind around why some people did what they did. All that mattered now was keeping them contained, so that their evil could not leech back out into the world anymore. Pausing, he glanced at Mallory. “I’ve been sitting here trying to learn every soul’s story, and I never even knew yours.” He murmured in realization, “How long have you been a demon?”

The girl stiffened, her shoulders tensing slightly. “1,000 years, your grace.” She replied timidly.

Jack frowned at her tone of voice. She was upset. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable by asking.” He said gently. 

Mallory shook her head lightly. “Don’t apologize,” she said, “I just thought… I thought you would already know my story. When you took the throne, you read every demon’s memories to separate the corrupt from the loyal.” 

Jack shrugged, the smallest hint of a blush coming to his cheeks. “You are different,” he admitted, “you have been with me since I first arrived down here. I consider you my friend. I felt it would be wrong to invade your privacy like that.”

Mallory seemed touched, her eyes widening in the tiniest bit of shock, as though such a common courtesy hadn’t been extended to her in a very long time. “I appreciate that, my lord,” she smiled genuinely, “it has been a while since anyone bothered to ask me such things.” 

Jack smiled back, before letting a serious shadow fall across his features. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he entailed quietly, “what made you decide to become a demon?”

She bit her lip nervously, looking away as something somber flashed across her face. Jack was about to tell her not to bother, that if she didn’t want to tell him she didn’t have to, but before he could open his mouth, she spoke. “I was a peasant girl,” she murmured thoughtfully, “my parents died soon after I was born, and my brother and I lived in poverty on the outskirts of a kingdom. We were poor, but happy.”

The corner of Jack’s lips quirked upward at that, imagining a quaint little village in the countryside, how life must have been back then. “What was your brother’s name?” He asked.

Mallory smiled warmly at the memory, eyes bright. “Geoffrey,” she answered, “he was six years older than I. Brave, strong- if we were nobles, he could have been a knight. He fought in countless duels, and he won every battle. That was how we made our money. Every man who lost to Geoffrey had to pay a fee, and we used those to get by.”

“Did he have a sword?” Jack asked suddenly, excitement dancing in his eyes, “Sam and Dean let me watch movies on their computer, and in Robin Hood, they had swords.”

Mallory chuckled, nodding. “Yes,” she said, “he had a sword. It was my father’s. He called it ‘Tiger’s Claw’, and claimed it was lucky. He never lost a battle with it. Except…” She trailed off, the joy at recalling the memories slowly fading into sorrow, “except one. He was struck from his horse by a challenger, and was cut very badly. The duels were always meant to be for sport, they were never supposed to end like that!” She took a breath, pausing. “The man apologized several times over. It was an accident, they were in the moment and things escalated too quickly, I saw it with my own eyes. He felt terribly about it, he even paid for the village doctor to visit us… But there was nothing to be done. My brother had fallen ill from his wounds, and no one could save him. And I… I  _ couldn’t  _ watch him die. He was my entire world, he raised me, we were always together.”

Jack stared at her intently, eyes trained on her face with sadness. She paused, silent for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

“The man who challenged Geoffrey never left through all of it. He was distraught at what he had done, being a simple blacksmith who’d only ever competed in the battle in order to complete a bet he made at a tavern. He never planned on what was going to happen. He and his family offered to have me stay at their home for free after Geoffrey died. They were kind people, willing to take me in… And I refused. I was bitter, angry at my brother’s fate. I went and consulted in a witch, desperate to save him, who told me about crossroad deals. I summoned a demon that night, and sold my soul in exchange for my brother’s life. I told the demon that I would only agree if I were to get exactly what I wanted. And I did. Geoffrey recovered over night, healthy and no longer injured. The village was amazed, called it a ‘miracle’... I only got to spend five last minutes with my brother before I was dragged down to Hell.” 

Jack swallowed thickly, daring to rest a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, before it hit him.  _ She made a crossroads deal to save a life.  _ His eyes widened in realization, and he abruptly twisted around to face her. “Wait,” he breathed, “I forbade crossroad deals. When I usurped my father, I said that anyone bound by a deal made to save a life was free to go! You can return to earth!”

Mallory smiled woefully, gently removing Jack’s hands from her shoulders. “I know, my lord.” She said quietly, “I was there when you made the announcement.” 

Jack frowned in confusion, staring at her like she had two heads. “What are you talking about?” He exclaimed, “If you knew, why are you still here? Don’t you know what this means? I freed you! You can go back to the living, you can have your soul back! You don’t have to stay here anymore!”  

The demon sighed sadly, that wistful smile still resting on her lips. “I cannot get my soul back because I never lost it. When I first arrived, I expected my soul to be ripped from my body, to be tormented for all eternity like anyone would. But for some reason, your father spared me from that. He gave me my soul back, on account of my well-known ability to… well…  _ please  _ a man. I was still bound by my contract, but my soul never left me. I have been a servant of the throne room ever since.”

Jack shook his head in a mix of horror and bewilderment. “I don’t understand,” he stammered, “if you knew this whole time, why haven’t you left yet? You already have your soul, all you need is an escort to return you to earth. You are no longer a slave, I  _ freed  _ you! I freed all of you!” 

Mallory paused, hesitating slightly before taking his hands in hers. Her palms were cool and soft, like flower petals against his skin. “I saw you break the chains that have kept millions bound for millenia,” she whispered fiercely, “I saw you burn down the temple of your Father and walk out unharmed. I saw you free your aunts and uncles, destroy those who sought to interfere with the living, and close the gates that had been causing years of heartache on earth… There is nothing left for me up there. My life has been here for 1,000 years. And for the first time in my entire existence, you gave me hope. I see myself in you. You came here to save your family and stop those who wished them harm. If you can do everything you’ve done, then maybe  _ I  _ have a chance, too. To make things right for myself, and my brother.”

Jack swallowed thickly, hazel eyes meeting hers nervously. “What if I cannot be what it is you think I can? What if I… What if I’m not strong enough?”

Mallory smiled knowingly. “You will be,” she insisted, “I can feel it.”


	55. I Don't Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean breaks the news to Sam after they arrive, along with some brotherly fluff moments between our two favorite angels!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Sorry for the delay in posting! The holiday season has had me very busy. I appreciate all of you and your comments! Side note- VivianNg has some awesome fanart on deviantart.com! Search her username and tell her how awesome the dragon!Gabes are! Anyone is welcome to draw fanarts for this work, so long as you state what it's for! Thank you!

 

“You’re back early.” Dean commented, sitting with his feet up on the table in the bunker library.

Sam shrugged, keeping one eye on Gabriel, who was climbing the twelve foot tall bookshelf to reach something on the top. “It was an easy hunt,” he replied, “Charlie helped a lot. We found the thing pretty quickly, and it was already weak. Nothing like the wendigos we used to deal with.” 

Dean smiled half heartedly, wishing that he didn’t have to tell his brother about Mary. He knew Sam would be hurt, angry at him for taking such drastic measures without his knowledge. There was a distinctly awful pain that seemed to come for Dean every time he knew he was about to do something that would hurt his brother. Even if it was for his own good, it didn’t matter. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause Sam pain. But he could see that it was already too late to spare him any heartache. Dean had been watching over the past few months, quietly observing the interactions between Sam and his mother, and he could see the rejection, the sadness on Sam’s face whenever their mother turned him away. He saw the lines of disappointment and confusion appear between his brows when Mary dismissed just about everything he said in favor of disappearing to somewhere else. The woman had been trying to be discreet, but Sam was smarter than that. He had known she was avoiding them. It killed Dean inside to watch as Sam made attempt after attempt to get to know the Mother he never had, to try and spend any sort of alone time with her, only for her to come up with some excuse to leave. It was like she was  _ afraid  _ to get to know him, so she didn’t even try. And Dean had enough.

As if on cue, Sam suddenly frowned and looked around. “Where’s Mom?” He asked.

Dean sighed heavily, looking at his shoes. He couldn’t put this off any longer, he knew he had to just get it over with. “She’s gone.” He answered flatly. 

Sam’s eyes widened in a brief moment of panic, but Dean caught it before it could really take root. 

“No, not that, she’s ok,” Dean assured quickly, “... I asked her to leave.”

A wave of relief washed over his brother’s features for a moment, before it was gone and replaced by confusion and upset. “What?” He exclaimed, “What are you talking about?”

A loud crash interrupted their exchange, and they both flinched at the sound, looking to see Gabriel groaning as he got up off the floor, covered in dust and surrounded by fallen books. Cas was beside him, apparently having acted as a landing pad as he, too, sat up with an aching back. “I told you it was not wise to reach for things manually,” Cas scolded in his gravelly voice, frowning at his brother, “you should have used your grace to retrieve it.”

Gabriel held up a leather bound copy of some old english rendition of the angelic encyclopedia, smirking in triumph at him. “Ha! I still got it.” He retorted, looking as if he’d just won some sort of competition. 

Cas went to roll his eyes at him, when he noticed the tension between Sam and Dean. “We should go.” He said curtly, already having a feeling on what this conversation was about but not wanting to stick around and see.

Gabriel cocked his head in confusion, but before he could open his mouth to ask why, the younger angel grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down the hallway, away from the scene. His brother always had a pension for drama, and, obviously, had a difficult time with the concept of privacy. 

“You kicked our mom out?” Sam exclaimed, eyes trained on Dean alight with anger, “How could you do that?!”

“Wake up, Sammy, she’s not our mom!” Dean snapped back, fury peaking for just a moment before deflating and sighing into his hands. “Not anymore, at least.” 

His older brother’s sudden display of sorrow caught Sam off guard, and his anger ebbed only slightly at that, face softening just a little. “What do you mean?” He asked roughly. 

Dean shook his head, trying and failing to come up with the right words to convey what he meant. “She’s been… different… ever since she came back.” He said lowly, “And I know, I  _ know  _ that’s to be expected, but… Sam, c’mon, she didn’t even  _ try.”  _

Sam’s face fell at that, shoulders sagging. “You don’t know that for sure.” He murmured weakly, wishing that what his older brother was trying to say wasn’t true. They both knew it, they were just afraid to speak it. Sam had hoped that if he ignored it, it would go away. It didn’t.

“She’s not the same person I knew. And she’s not the same mom you deserve to know.” Dean said softly, “Something’s not right with her. I don’t know what it is, I-I don’t know if it’s something to do with Amara, or her soul, or whatever, but… But until we figure it out, she needs to figure herself out. I’m sorry, Sam but I couldn’t keep watching her turn you away. I can’t do it.”

Sam sat down slowly, closing his eyes against the truth. So it wasn’t all in his head. She really  _ had  _ been rejecting them. All this time, a part of him wanted to believe that the fault lay with himself, that he was too shy or too reluctant to get her attention. He wanted to believe that the way he’d seen her brush Dean off was just because she was tired. He wanted to pretend the lines on his older brother’s face after talking with her were just exhaustion, not the pain of rejection. But he was wrong. His mother, the woman he’d only known through stories and pictures, didn’t feel any sort of attachment to him… didn’t  _ love _ him. “Maybe… Maybe it doesn’t matter whether she came back by Amara or not.” Sam whispered, “Maybe even if she lived, she would’ve felt the same towards me… felt nothing.”

Dean frowned, clasping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You stop that right now,” he demanded roughly, “you know that’s not true. I may have been young, but I  _ know  _ what I saw when we were kids. She was crazy about you, ok?"

Sam didn’t meet his gaze, staring at the floor instead. He was silent, only the steady thrum of Gabriel’s grace coursing through his mind. He didn’t know what to believe anymore. Dean was only 4 when their mother died, how much could he have possibly remembered accurately? For all Sam knew, Mary could have failed to bond with him from the beginning. He hoped,  _ prayed  _ that wasn’t true, but now, he would never know. 

“Sam,” Dean pressed, gripping him firmly yet gently at the back of his neck, “you gotta trust me on this.” 

Sam looked at his older brother, hazel eyes genuine and serious as he stared intently at him. He was telling the truth.  _ Of course, I trust you,  _ Sam thought miserably. He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes, but he angrily forced them away before they fell. He couldn’t let Dean see him cry. It had been years since that happened. He couldn’t fall apart again. He had to be strong for Dean, so he could at least try to repay the favor for all the times throughout their lives that Dean was strong for him. He nodded briskly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Yeah,” he said, taking a deep breath, “yeah, so, what’s the plan?”

Dean studied him for a moment longer, eyes lingering as if to read Sam’s mind to make sure he was ok. He wasn’t, but Dean knew when not to push some things. “Well, Cas and I are gonna look into factors that might explain why this is going on.” He said factually, “We need to check over everything we know about Amara, make sure she didn’t pull a fast one on us when she brought mom back. Cas is gonna check with his allies in heaven, see what they know… I was thinking you could do some research. Components of the soul, what can be lost, found, all that.” 

Sam nodded again, grateful for a task to be given. He could always compose himself better when he knew what to do.  _ Thanks to years of Dad giving us orders,  _ he thought bittersweetly, remembering the way their father commanded them like soldiers. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get on it.” He confirmed.

Dean gave him a curt nod, and there was an awkward pause of silence before Sam stood up hastily. The air in the room felt too thick, his chest felt too tight. “I should probably check on Gabe,” he said quietly, “give Cas a break for once.”  
Dean lit up at the mention of his angel, and Sam couldn’t help but smile himself. He would never stop being happy for his brother finding the love he deserved. He only wished they’d had it sooner. “You do that,” Dean murmured, “send him my way. I need to talk to him about something.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering what Dean would want to ask him out of earshot, but simply shrugged and went off to find them. 

* * *

“This thing says you should shift every  _ century,  _ you moron, how long has it been since you actually did that?” Gabriel exclaimed. 

Castiel couldn’t help but cow just a little beneath his older brother’s gaze, looking away sheepishly. “About two millenia.” He confessed.

Gabriel sighed loudly in exasperation, rolling his eyes before fixing his brother with a pointed stare. “Damn it, Cas, you’re supposed to do it more often! Why have you been doing this to yourself? Because you’re afraid of what the  _ Winchesters  _ would think?”

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed timidly. He’d told his brother initially about his dragon form transformation as soon as they returned, eager to get it off his chest and confide in someone before Dean told the entire bunker. In hindsight, telling an overprotective archangel of a brother might not have been the best idea. “I was scared,” he admitted nervously, “you know that Dean and I have only recently become intimate, what was I supposed to do?”

Gabriel frowned, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Ok, first of all,  _ ew,”  _ he muttered, sticking his tongue out at the idea of Dean and his brother together in the moonlight, “second of all, you’re supposed to tell the truth! Do you honestly think that after everything you’ve been through with those guys, they’d kick you out for a part of your biological makeup? You’re lucky you haven’t damaged your grace, you know how unhealthy that is to keep your wings bound up!”

Castiel sighed dejectedly. “You’re right.” He mumbled lowly, “I have not been taking proper care of myself. I’m only just starting to feel able to get out of bed in the morning and not see… not see him there.” He nearly whispered. 

Gabriel knew he was talking about Jack, and his face softened. He knew his brother would never fully recover from losing his son, but recognizing that he was doing good work was the start of something better. “You know,” he said quietly, “when Sam and I went to take out the Wendigo, it was a pitiful thing… Eyes sunken, teeth barely sharp… It barely took one shot to blast it to bits. It was barely alive, Cas, barely able to cause any damage. The demons, the monsters, they’re all getting weaker and disappearing. People aren’t having to fear them like they used to, people aren’t  _ dying  _ like they used to. And it’s because of  _ Jack.”  _

Castiel looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes, the start of a smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Gabriel.” He said softly, reaching through the physical and celestial planes to touch his wings comfortingly, “That means a lot to me.” 

Gabriel hummed at the soft touch against his wings, leaning into it ever so slightly, before Sam walked in. He had felt the hunter’s soul ripple in troubled waves of sadness after finding out their mother left, and he was ready to comfort him. 

“Heyya, Sammich,” he smiled, holding up the book he and his brother had been reading, “I was just dusting off the ol’ angel lore for a bit of light reading. Cas and I think we should re-title it to ‘What Humans Pretend To Think They Know About Stuff’ instead of ‘The Complete Encyclopedia of Angelic Lore’. What do you think?”

Sam chuckled at that despite the sadness he was feeling, and Castiel rolled his eyes. “For the record, I have no desire to partake in the relabeling of this novel.” He said gravelly, before standing to leave and find Dean. He had a feeling that he was needed elsewhere. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cas.” Sam smiled as the angel drifted out of the room, letting Gabriel sit with his feet up on the bed. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, absently wondering how this had become his life. The sight of the archangel Gabriel lying casually on his bed was a thing of comfort, when not too long ago he would have been reaching for his gun. So much had changed. So much… 

“You ok, kiddo?” Gabriel asked, face pinched in concern as he stared at the younger hunter. He had a feeling that he already knew what this was about, but it was Sam’s job to tell him, not his. 

Sam sighed heavily, shoulders sagging as he sat on the foot of the bed. “Mom left.” He said flatly, eyes glued to the floor. “Dean told her to go. She admitted that she…” he sighed shakily, running a hand through his hair, “she doesn’t love us. Not this time. She doesn’t feel anything.”

Gabriel frowned, perking up immediately in attentiveness. “What? How…” He schooled himself before he could go off on a tangent, forcing himself to be calm and stoic for Sam’s sake. He wanted to ask, ‘how could a mother say something that horrible?’, but instead he settled for; “So, we think this is a double cross on Amara’s part? It could be a possession. Just because this place is warded doesn’t mean that some tricky bastards can’t get in.”

Sam huffed a sigh in resignation. “I don’t know.” He said somberly, face fallen. “I just… I don’t know.”


	56. You're Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabe discuss Mary Winchester, and Dean lets Cas know exactly how he feels about his dragon form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you so much for your continued support- I apologize for the wait! Life's been busy!

Gabriel frowned, his heart breaking at Sam’s words. How could anyone look at the kid and  _ not  _ love him? He just couldn’t accept it. Sure, Mary had seemed closed off ever since she came back, but who wouldn’t be? She’d come back from the  _ dead _ ! Besides, her concern when she thanked him for protecting Sam seemed real to him. Something just wasn’t adding up… 

“C’mon, buddy, you don’t really believe that. All mothers love their children.” He said softly, making an effort to comfort the man.

Sam huffed a shaky exhale at that. “That’s not true,” he murmured lowly, “look at Rowena. She’s a mother, and she doesn’t even  _ like  _ Crowley.”

“ _ I _ like you.” Gabriel pointed out meekly, eyes wide as he watched Sam. 

The hunter scoffed, folding his arms and rolling his eyes. “We share a  _ soul,  _ Gabe,” he said exasperatedly, “you don’t really have a choice in that matter.”

Gabriel nodded mutely, staring at the floor. He didn’t know what was wrong with Mary Winchester. She had definitely loved her children when she was last alive, that he knew for sure. And even now, he could see that she  _ wanted  _ that attachment. But there was something wrong. He was lost for words, unsure of what to say to the pained man. He could feel the waves of sorrow rolling off Sam’s soul like waves, feelings of rejection and sadness. It hurt his grace worse than anything Asmodeus ever did to him, feeling Sam in pain. He gently pushed forth pulses of love and grace through their connection, hoping to soothe him at least a little, but all he got was a weak smile in return.

So, he said nothing at all. He simply stood up, slowly and silently walking over to Sam. He gingerly wrapped his arms around the tall figure, leaning warm and firm against him. He felt Sam tremble beneath him, but he didn’t speak for a long beat. 

“Sam.” He said quietly, firmly, “We’ll figure this out. We’ll get your mom back, I promise.”

The hunter said nothing, pausing except for the slight hitch of his shoulders. He leaned into the embrace, eyes closed. Sometimes, he wondered if the idea of their mother was just an illusion- if Dean, who’d been  _ so young  _ when she died, created an imaginary memory of the perfect mother to cope. Maybe the beautiful, kind, flawless woman that came to mind when one spoke of Mary Winchester was never even real. He knew how important their mother was to Dean, how she’d always been important. It would be a tragedy to say the very least if they found out that the mother they’d wished for all these years didn’t exist. He knew it would devastate Dean.

“I shouldn’t be the one who’s upset,” he said angrily, running his hands through his hair, “I never even  _ knew  _ her, it’s  _ Dean  _ who she hurt. He’s the one who actually grew up with her. I never had a mom, Gabe. He did- and now, she’s gone again.” 

The angel frowned, tilting his head at him. “All children deserve a mother, Sam.” He said solemnly, “Just because dean got to know her doesn’t mean you would be hurt any less. She loved you, kiddo. C’mon, you know that.” The angel murmured into Sam’s back, “I would know. I’m the angel of children, remember? I know all that stuff. And I distinctly remember her loving you before you were even born.”

Sam opened one eye tiredly, turning to face Gabe with uncertainty. “Really?” He asked quietly. The amount of doubt in his voice was palpable, but there was also a small glimmer of hope there.

“Of course, kiddo,” he assured, “I’m pretty sure Dean even got jealous at one point because of how much she was pouring over you.”

Sam huffed a laugh at that, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That sounds like something he would do.” He admitted fondly, sorrow numbing a little as he pictured a loving Mary standing over him as an infant, while Dean pouted in the doorway or decided to break something.  _ Could that have really been my life?  _ He wondered dazedly,  _ Even if I was only a baby, was that still part of my existence?  _ The idea of such a loving, wholesome, peaceful life seemed almost an impossibility, like walking on water or turning back time. It just wasn’t in the cards.

“Something’s just got her stuck right now. Supernatural or not, we’ll fix it,” Gabriel murmured kindly, offering a warm grin, “that’s what we do, right?”

Sam, despite his heavy heart and troubled thoughts, couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah,” he agreed softly, reaching out to touch the angel’s downy wings that only he could see, “that’s what we do.” The odd colored wing that had grown back after the battle with Michael was his favorite, and he often found himself running his palm over the platinum colored plumage. It was a reminder to him. A reminder that even when something was lost and dead, new life could grow back.

The angel hummed thoughtfully as they sat there on the bed in silence together. The light of early dawn was coming in through the sheer curtains on the window in their room. An absent memory washed over the angel’s consciousness, and before he knew it, Sam was trying to get his attention.

“Hmm?” Gabe asked dazedly, tiredness and nostalgia slurring his thoughts.

“I asked you what it is you’re humming,” Sam said, “you were humming a song.”

Gabe frowned in confusion, before the familiar melody tugged at the back of his mind in a subconscious ploy to be played aloud. He knew it instantly.

It had been ages since he sang it out loud, but he often found himself reminiscing the tune in his head. It was so long ago, so old that it almost seemed unreal now. It was as if it were all a dream, and if it wasn’t for the nagging rhythm he’d encounter every once in a while, he would’ve doubted whether it ever really happened. But he still knew each and every word. It had taken him a while to be able to remember it without aching or feeling terribly sick. But Sam was asking, and he couldn’t refuse Sam. 

 

“ _ Oh, Southern wind of Eden’s gates, tell me what you bring.  _

_ The sun, the moon, and the thousand stars _

_ To rest upon thy wings. _

 

_ “I have no gold; nor silver dust _

_ But this I have to tell- _

_ A roaring trumpet blew today  _

_ That rattles the gates of Hell. _

 

_ “A man was made, a man was born _

_ And through him, given breath _

_ Today, the angel’s soul and grace _

_ And fire were made flesh. _

 

_ “The darkness shall cave under _

_ And bow before all man _

_ The Mark of Sheol will shudder _

_ At the creator’s hand. _

 

_ “And they shall live, _

_ To love all things _

_ And only joy _

_ And kindness bring. _

 

_ “Oh, Eve and Adam, all our love _

_ Shall you forever have, _

_ From this first stroke of morning light _

_ Until the very last.” _

 

* * *

 

“Dean, you have to know that Sam is not angry with you.” Cas murmured in the dim lighting of the bedroom. Since he had told Sam about Mary’s departure, the older hunter had been consumed with guilt, feeling as though he was responsible for Sam’s suffering. He sat on the bed, knees apart and his head in his hands. They always say, ‘don’t shoot the messenger’, but right now, Dean really didn’t feel like he deserved that much mercy. Few things were as difficult as delivering bad news to those you cared about. And this time, Dean didn’t have a clue as to how to fix things. 

“He has a right to be.” Dean said flatly, staring at his shoes, “I kicked her out without so much as a warning. I know, I  _ know  _ it was wrong of me to do somethin’ like that while he wasn’t here, alright, but I just… I couldn’t do it anymore, Cas.” 

The angel sat down beside him on a desk chair near the bed, watching him with concern in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t keep watching him try to get to know her, try to reach out to her, only for her to push him away. To push  _ me  _ away. And the worst part… The worst part is, I don’t even know if how she’s acting has anything to do with the supernatural.”

Cas frowned, taking Dean’s hand firmly. “Don’t say things like that, Dean, of course it’s supernatural.” He said forcefully, hoping to get his attention, “You cannot honestly tell me that your mother went from being perfectly fine right after resurrection to… this… all of a sudden, and have it  _ not  _ be supernatural. Something is obviously attempting to impair her, we just have to figure out what. It could be any number of things- just because we don’t see it now, doesn’t mean that your mother really feels this way.”

Dean gave a small smile, gratefully squeezing the angel’s hand back. This wonderful, extraordinary angel never failed to reassure him. No matter what it was, Cas had a way of making everything seem less terrible. He huffed a dry laugh beneath his breath, smirking at the angel. “I can’t believe you never told me that you’re just a flying lizard in a trenchcoat.” He chuckled quietly.

Cas surprised even himself when a loud laugh escaped him, staring at Dean bashfully. “I’m sorry I never told you,” he admitted sheepishly, “I was just afraid of what you’d think. I have to exercise my warrior form every so often or else my grace will deteriorate. Gabriel is simply more open about his experiences. I am no different than any other angel.” 

Dean eyed him with wonder, the corner of his lips turning upwards. “You’re different.” He insisted gently, “You’re different.” 

They smiled at one another, simply taking in one another’s company. 

Dean could’ve sworn that when he stared into Cas’s eyes, it was like looking into the universe itself. Two pools of pure blue, uniquely belonging to Castiel. It was in moments like these that Dean was reminded that the angel was just that- an  _ angel.  _ No gender, no limits, no preconceptions or boundaries. Trying to compare Cas to anything human-like was futile, because he wasn’t human. He almost always forgot that just because Jimmy Novak’s body had been his vessel for so long. But the man’s familiar face was not Castiel’s. Come to think of it, he’d never even seen Cas before. He supposed he never would without burning his eyes out. He didn’t mind, though. Even in a human vessel, the angel was more than good enough. He was perfect. 

“For what it’s worth,” Dean murmured, “I think your dragon side looks pretty badass.”  

If you would’ve told Castiel ten years ago that the praise of one human man would mean more to him than all the powers of heaven, he would have never believed you.


	57. Lost Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angels regroup and start to make decisions together again- meanwhile, the rest of the gang figure out what's wrong with Mary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Thank you for your continued support and don't forget to leave a review! Enjoy!

 

“The others are resting,” Samandriel reported to the small makeshift council the angels had garnered in the throne room. After killing Naomi, Ezekiel and Indra had gathered only those whose grace was strong enough to start repowering heaven and put the mess that was once their home back together. 

For days, thousands of them had huddled together in the infinite plains of heaven to rest and recharge their tortured bodies. Years of Lucifer binding their wings and stealing their power had left them worn and tattered, and getting their grace back too longer now than it did before. But their time trapped and alone had drawn them closer to one another, and heaven looked so different now that they were open with each other. It looked less big, less  _ empty,  _ and things seemed less sterile and cold. Without their own petty exchanges and inner grudges, they felt freer than they ever were before. No more hiding, no more lying… When they’d first been taken, they quickly learned that lying to each other and hiding resentment only resulted in Lucifer’s further pleasure. They had no choice but to put aside their differences.

“Good,” Indra said, “it’ll take more time for them to fully restore their grace… I have to ask, how did all of you manage to survive? I know the Nephilim freed you, but how did you keep Lucifer from sucking you dry?”

Anna shuddered visibly at the memories. “We shared grace.” She whispered, recalling vividly the horrific times when many of them were on the brink of death. On one particularly desperate occasion, Ezekiel had taken one of the demon guard’s angel blades and used it to make an incision on his own neck, drawing forth a portion of his grace and passing it around to the multitudes who Lucifer had just decimated. It brought the dozens of angels who were dying back to the relative realm of safety, but they still never spoke of it. Sharing one’s grace in itself was considered ultimately taboo, something intimate that was only ever done in dire consequences or scandal. But  they had no choice- it was them against the rest of Hell. So, by the end of their terrible stay, almost all of them had at some point made the cut and passed their own grace around to their siblings. It had to be done in secret, of course- the demons would have killed them if they ever found out.

“We’ve managed to open three new corridors since we’ve been back,” Ezekiel piped up positively, “more room so that we can start to decompress all the downsizing you’ve had to do while we were gone.”

Indra smiled at him thankfully, nodding. “No doubt we’ve needed it. How are our brothers? How are Castiel and Gabriel? I haven’t seen either in far too long.”

Balthazar grinned, sitting back in his chair. “Gabe’s gone and gotten himself bonded to Sam Winchester.” He said with a smirk. 

“Of course, we knew that,” Ambriel laughed happily, “both of them have been quite overjoyed about it, especially Gabriel. You could feel his grace from miles away with how happy he is… It’s strange, I’d of never thought that Father would pair him with a Winchester, out of all the people on the planet.”

They all froze at the accidental mention of their father, smiles slipping from their faces. No one had spoken about God’s disappearance since it happened. Naomi had forbade it in Heaven, deeming it treason. God had abandoned them, and anyone who considered wasting their time trying to find him was considered guilty of mutiny. But even if the corrupted leader of Heaven  _ hadn’t  _ forbidden it, none of them would have talked about it, anyways. It was too raw, too painful, too…  _ unbelievable.  _ That was, perhaps, the only right word one could use to describe it. None of the angels believed it. Their father had taken leave before, on multiple occasions. But it was never for long, certainly never  _ forever.  _ The first time he’d left, it was to go into solitude to mourn for his children, Lucifer, Adam and Eve. Following the Great Rebellion, God was distraught at the loss of his greatest joys and most beloved creations. He swept away into the seams of the universe, vanishing for a while before eventually returning. No one had been surprised by that- after all, everyone was grieving. 

But this time, everything was different. Their father had simply left with Amara shortly after Dean Winchester saved the world by fostering their reconciliation. No explanation, no information, just; “ _ We’re gonna go away for a while _ .”. And then, they were gone. Disappeared. No angel, not even The Empty could sense his presence. Of course, he  _ was  _ God- if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. The timing was the worst part of it all. Right when Lucifer was gaining power, right before the Nephilim was to be born, right when tension between the angels was thickest, he left. 

Ezekiel remembered asking his father once, a long, long time ago, why he didn’t intervene as much in the lives of men. Back when the garden of Eden was still living, he would visit Adam and Eve all the time- the angels would laugh and play with them, and God stood by, ensuring that nothing would go wrong.  _ They are killing each other, Father,  _ he had said whilst watching the generations on earth grow,  _ why don’t you stop them?  _ His father only smiled at him wisely, a sad smile that wore lines on his weathered face.  _ Oh, my son,  _ he had sighed gently,  _ there is nothing I can do. When you and your siblings were born, I gifted you free will, as I did with man. This is a precious gift, one I shall never take away from any of you, no matter what. It allows you to feel joy, to feel love. But you cannot force someone to love you. You cannot make someone be at peace with his brother. They have to want peace within themselves. Only then will the fighting stop, and not before.  _

Ezekiel had frowned, his wings drooping slightly. He hadn’t understood back then.  _ But they are only children,  _ he had pointed out meekly,  _ your children. How will they learn these things if they are so new to life? _

His father smoothed down one of his dislodged feathers gently, looking down on his creation.  _ A good parent does not always keep their child from falling, Ezekiel. He lets them fall and learn from it, grow from it. I will always be here for my children, little one. I will never give up on any of you. But it is not my job to shelter and trap you. It is my job to prepare you and teach you, so that you can see what I have made through your own eyes, in your own time. Each and every one of you. _

Ezekiel snapped back to the present when he heard his sister calling his name gently, memories fading as he looked to Anna, who was staring at him concernedly. 

“Brother?” She asked quietly, “We were just asking you- what shall we do next?”

The angel licked his lips nervously, glancing around the room at all the hopeful eyes looking to him for guidance and input. He inhaled deeply, nodding in determination. “We begin to fix things, to try and restore them to how they once were.”

Indra frowned, eyes wide in bewilderment. “You mean, before Father left?” He breathed, “B-but that’s near impossible! We’ve spent millions of years fighting our own battles against one another. Heaven is being barely held together as it is, we cannot fix it in one night. Where would we even begin?”

Ezekiel stood up, looking through the throne room window through which shone the bright image of earth. “We begin by righting the first and greatest wrong we’ve ever done, and have been doing since. We start helping humans again.” 

A slight chorus of gasps echoed throughout the room- they were all astonished at such a radical idea. No angel had interfered in the lives of humans, least of all in a  _ positive way,  _ in thousands of years. They had gotten too caught up in the divisions in heaven, those who fell with Lucifer and those who fought against him. Helping mankind had fallen by the wayside, deemed as the ‘least of their worries’. Many of them hadn’t even set foot on earth since Adam and Eve were cast out. 

“You know we cannot do that,” Samandriel protested, “we haven’t been on earth to help in millennia. We do more harm than good, we should just stay here.” 

“He’s right,” Ambriel agreed, “the best way to help the humans is to leave them alone.”

Ezekiel frowned, turning to stare his siblings down. “It is our fault they are alone in the first place,” he pointed out, “once upon a time, they put their trust in us… and we failed them. Father is not here to forbid us from reaching out. This is our chance to make things right, life by life, person by person, problem by problem. Right now, the reputation on earth of angels is one of horror. And unless we rebuild what we have broken, that will never change.”

There was a tense silence that fell over the room, one of fear and apprehensiveness. “Ezekiel, what are you asking us to do?” Indra murmured quietly.

The angel looked to his brother with a sincere, pleading gaze. “To follow in the footsteps of our brothers, Castiel and Gabriel… To have some faith.” 

  
  


“The book of the dead doesn’t mention anything about Amara anywhere,” Dean exclaimed in frustration, leafing through the aged manual that they had laid out on the bunker war table. Ever since Mary left during her fight with Dean, she had taken up refuge with Donna, something Dean only knew because Donna had texted him. He wasn’t speaking to his mother… not as long as there were still doubts in his mind as to whether or not she was just that. While she was gone, everyone was desperately searching to figure out what was wrong.

“Of course there’s not, Amara isn’t really that famous.” Gabriel pointed out from the kitchen, munching on a graham-cracker sandwich with marshmallows in between, “The only place she’s even mentioned is the book of Enoch, and that doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know.”

Sam ran a hand through his hair tiredly, casting a glance at his angel. “Ok, well, if human lore doesn’t have anything on her, what about you? I mean, you and Cas would know more than any of us.” He said. 

Castiel frowned in thought, the sharpness of his blue gaze sending a chill down Dean’s spine. “We do not know as much as you’d think,” he muttered, “in heaven, she is considered the ultimate evil, on the same tier as Lucifer. Discussing her would be treasonous, especially under Naomi’s rule. All we were ever told was that she had been locked away, but, obviously, that has changed.”

“But Naomi’s dead now,” Sam intoned, “can’t you ask around upstairs and see if anyone knows anything?”

Dean sighed heavily, putting his head in his hands. “None of this makes any sense,” he mumbled, “even if any of the angels  _ did  _ know something about her, why would Amara mess with Mom? She had no reason to trick us or keep a part of her soul. Hell, she didn’t want anything to do with us!”

“Maybe it’s not Amara.”

Everyone turned around to see Rowena standing in the doorway, arms folded.

Sam raised an eyebrow- the witch had been in Scotland for several days now, and no one had seen nor heard from her for a while. Her appearance was definitely a surprise. “What are you doing here?” He asked in bewilderment.

Brushing past him, Rowena traipsed over to the large bookshelf in the center of the room. “I believe in a lot of things, boys, but I can honestly say that this would be the first time I put any stock in something like this existing.” She ignored Sam, pulling a thin, unrecognizable book down from the top shelf, “I think I know what’s wrong with your mum… You were right,” she nodded to Dean, “the woman you’ve all been seeing is  _ not  _ your mother.”

Dean balked, and Sam’s eyes widened in fear. Not another possession- how could this happen? Amara had brought her back from the dead! There wouldn’t have been any time for any demon to get their hands on her! Was this all just a horrible coincidence?

“What the hell are you talking about?” Gabriel asked, clearly confused as well.

Rowena opened the book before looking to all of them. “They’re called ‘ _ gruachs’, _ ” she said gravely, flipping to a page that showed an illustration of a dark, sinewy figure that vaguely resembled the shape of a woman. “I never paid any mind to them for being real. They seemed too irrelevant, I always thought they were just a convenient excuse for husbands to leave their wives, but this… This is the only thing I could think of. It makes perfect sense.”

“What’s a gruach?” Dean demanded, never taking his eyes off the dark picture. 

“They’re not demons, so that may be why you couldn’t find anything at first,” she explained, “no one knows for sure what they are. Some say they’re ghosts, others say they’re woodland spirits… Their MO fits a lot of things. The general description is that they were humans once, children, to be exact, who were… rejected by their mothers.”

A tension fell across the room, and Gabriel looked to Sam nervously to make sure he was ok. 

“There are many things a person can recover from, but one thing that some say they can’t is the lack of a mother’s bond. It leaves a void, a hole that can never be fixed. And supposedly, the gruachs were children who let that void devour them completely. So completely, in fact, that they lost everything human about them and turned into these… things. Since they never got the love of a mother from their own, they roam the earth looking for other mums who can fill the void. Specifically, mothers who’ve lost their children, or are unable to have any.”

“Mom had been without us for twenty nine years until she came back… ” Dean said softly, voice barely perceptible.

“Once they find someone who fits their criteria, they possess them and feed off of their soul to sustain themselves, stealing away any real love the mum had for her own offspring and using it to soothe their own emptiness. As far as I know, they’ve never been known to kill their hosts… they want them to be around for as long as possible, so that they can continue to drain the care and attention. Their ultimate goal is to have the woman all to themselves, to drive her away from anyone she knew and to keep her isolated forever so that they can be her only priority.”

They all stood shocked, staring at the witch. They’d never even heard of something like the gruachs before, and that was definitely a first for the Winchesters. Sam didn’t even know how to feel- was there really a possibility that their mother didn’t hate them? It sounded pathetic to his own ears, but at this point, he was desperate.

Dean exhaled heavily, gazing at Rowena intently as though he was trying to gauge her truthfulness. “How can we drive them out?” He ground out, anger starting to wrap its tendrils around his mind. 

“You can’t,” Rowena cautioned, “they only leave when their spirits have been mended, when they finally have enough love and care to make up for the years of misery they endured in life. Only then do they let go and finally move on.”


	58. Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group sets off on a mission to find out what the gruachs are and how to save Mary- Sam and Gabe take a walk in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! I am so so sorry for the long update time- I have had some difficult things come up in my life lately, and have been unable to do as much as I used to. To any of you who have lost a pet unexpectedly, you know the grief is real :( But, I'm doing much better now and hope to have the next chapter soon! Please leave your comments and let me know what you think! You all encourage me beyond words!

Sam shook his head incredulously. “That’s impossible, there has to be  _ some  _ way to get rid of them!” He insisted, “Everything has a weakness, can’t we just use holy water or salt?”

Rowena shook her head. “They aren’t demons, dear.” 

“How do you know all this?” Cas asked suspiciously, arms folded as he studied her. 

Rowena gave him a casual glare. “If you must be so nosy, it was a stupid legend that happened to be all the rage when I was studying at the coven. The other witches used it to explain why so many babies were being left out in the street that year. Most of us never paid any mind to it, though, because you can’t summon or classify them. No one knows for sure what they are, not even the most esteemed cults in the world. They have the makings of ghosts, the intentions of demons, and the abilities of vengeful spirits. But they are none of those.”

Dean’s hands clenched into fists, and he closed his eyes briefly. Everything made sense to him now. In the few moments that Mary had wandered the earth alone after she’d been brought back, she was the most vulnerable target around for these things. A newly revived maternal soul, deprived of her children for twenty plus years, confused and alone.  _ I wasn’t fast enough,  _ Dean thought to himself miserably,  _ I didn’t find her soon enough. If I’d heard her calls before those things could’ve gotten to her, none of this would have happened. _

“Ok, there’s gotta be  _ some _ way to get rid of these things.” Gabriel insisted firmly, “They sound a hell of a lot like demons to me, maybe Cas and I can drive them out.”

Rowena shrugged, her mask of nonchalance falling back over her face. “You’d be the first,” she muttered, “no one’s ever been successful.”

“Has anyone even  _ tried?”  _ Sam pushed, getting frustrated with the witch’s short servings of information. 

She glanced at him with a pause, something unreadable dancing behind her eyes. “A few,” she said quietly, “only a few.”

Sam watched with suspicion as she waltzed out of the room, sensing that there was more to her experience with gruachs than she was letting on. Years of interviewing witnesses had trained him to know when someone was holding back details.  _ Something happened to her…  _ he thought briefly, before forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. He didn’t know how to feel about any of this- on one hand, he was glad that their mother’s detachedness wasn’t purely because of his own failures as a son. On the other hand, she was possessed by an unknown supernatural entity that had no proven cure.  _ Fuck.  _ He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, sparing a glance at his brother. 

“Dude, you ok?” He asked carefully, frowning at Dean's tense disposition.

Dean shook his head, staring at the table. “I kicked her out,” he whispered under his breath, “she’s got something living in her head and I made her leave.”

Cas’s brows knit together in concern, resting a firm hand on the older hunter’s shoulder. “You did the right thing- if it is a gruach possessing her, then it would’ve done more harm than good to keep her here. Rowena said that their goal is to isolate their victim. Who knows what kind of harm they would’ve done to her if she continued to stay around a group?” 

Dean gave a slight nod of admission, unable to deny that. If he’d known that his mom had been under a possession, the first thing he would’ve done was made sure she was safe. Even if that meant giving in to whatever the little bastard gruachs wanted.

“We’ll start looking for information on these things,” Castiel announced, feeling the need to step in on Dean’s behalf while he gathered his thoughts, “interview everyone who’s ever heard or seen them. I’ll try and talk with Ezekiel and my siblings to figure out what they know.”

* * *

 

Sam and Gabriel didn’t tell anyone that they were sneaking away to get some fresh air. They simply walked off into the woods, no words needed. The large dragon crawled beside Sam for once, dwarfing him even more than when he was mounted on his back. 

The spiny scales of his angel glimmered in the sunlight as each tendon moved beneath the skin, that ever-present pulse of blue colored grace surging just below the surface. The more Sam stared at him, the more he started to realize that Gabriel must be quite an old looking dragon to most other supernatural creatures. Of course, he had no idea what a young angel dragon looked like, but he could draw his own conclusions. Although Gabriel’s magnificent colors never dimmed, his body was scattered with battle scars. Tiny, semi-healed nicks that marked little canyons across the leathery skin. Some were ancient looking, deep and worn, while others were newer (he used that term loosely- within the last few centuries) and more apparent. His feathers were fully grown, were as long as they’d ever get, and his snout had numerous small rings running from the edge of his nostrils up to the bridge of his horns. They looked like the same ones you would see on the inside of a tree trunk, each line indicating the passage of time. And, although Sam had no idea how he even knew this or how to describe it, the dragon’s bones were  _ denser.  _ They were heavy like lead, tough and worn, and the hunter swore that he could almost hear the appendages groan or creak whenever the beast moved, like an old tank rolling across a battlefield. 

Sam often found himself surprised by Gabriel’s age, even though logically, he knew he shouldn’t be. But knowing a number in your head is much different than seeing the real thing. Gabriel’s human vessel was in such pristine condition, and for several years before they became bonded, that was all Sam could see; a fit man in his early to mid thirties, golden hair and honey colored eyes. It made him forget that behind that shell, that suit he wore, Gabriel was a sentient being. Ageless, ancient, and wild- he would never be human, no matter how much so he appeared to be. Rowena’s words from long ago echoed in his head-  _ “He’s a dragon, boys- he can never be tamed. Not even by you.”  _ Sam had felt old for as long as he could remember- they never really had a childhood, and even though Dean gave him the best he could, Sam grew up faster than any kid should ever have to. Add on the long suffering years he spent in Hell, and somedays Sam felt like his spirit was aging too quickly for his body. But somehow, when he was with Gabriel, he felt very,  _ very  _ young. Almost like a little kid again. It was strange, being separated from your age like that, but not in a bad way. He felt safe, like a child walking with their parent in a park or a large city. 

There was no denying the dragon’s parental instinct towards him, either. The longer they’d been together, the more often Sam would catch Gabriel acting protectively around him. They were subtle things, nothing too out of place so as not to disturb Gabe’s treasured “macho-badass rockstar” persona, but they were things Sam noticed anyway. 

Whenever they took a break during hunts, the dragon would circle awkwardly before curling around Sam like a lizard sitting on a nest of eggs, tail forming a barrier between the human and the outside world. Even when Gabriel was in his vessel, where he was  _ much  _ shorter than the hunter, Sam would catch him looking out the bedroom window at night while he slept, as though standing guard should anything fly through the glass to steal him. When it was his nesting time, he became paranoid- keenly aware and afraid that something would go wrong. He’d pick up clothes and items off of the bedroom floor so that Sam wouldn’t trip over anything- he’d constantly be using his grace to scan Sam’s body for any signs of illness or infection before it started, examining every single aspect of him to make sure he was healthy. He could see how uncomfortable it was for Gabe if he tried to shrug off his urge to check on Sam during those times- he’d shiver and twitch and shift restlessly in his seat, looking like an addict in withdrawal. He won’t deny that it was sometimes embarrassing to have Dean walk in on Gabriel spooning him, but Sam just didn’t have it in him to make the poor guy more uncomfortable than he already was by refusing his need for vigilance. There were a lot of things that Sam was willing to do now that he never would have before.

They stopped walking when they came to their favorite clearing, a small spot of open land a few miles from the bunker. Surrounded by tall trees on every side, it gave them relatively certain privacy. Combine that with the fact that the bunker was built in total isolation with the nearest town being 30 miles away and Gabriel’s ability to hide them with an invisibility illusion, and no one would ever know that they were there. 

Sam breathed in the fresh forest air, sighing at the crisp coolness of the outdoors. He’d needed to get away. There had been no cases to speak of lately, at least, none that they could find. After Jack had reclaimed Hell, the amount of monsters they had to deal with had decreased tremendously. The only small incident that Bobby had managed to catch in the local newspaper was a farmer’s sudden loss of livestock. He’d downloaded and forwarded the article to Dean, who briefly skimmed over it and brushed it off as a wendigo. Probably dying, too, from the fact that all it was capable of taking down were animals. That’s how most monsters they encountered these days were- starving and weak. With Jack cutting off their supply of power, the evil beings were slowly deteriorating without the once abundant supply of hell-driven strength. Now, the creatures they faced were almost pitiful, at least compared to what they used to be. Dean had killed a Rakshasa with a single blow just last week, not even needing the colt or any backup. A small blade of silver was all it took, and his brother recounted the being as ‘smaller than dog, slower than a deer’. It was nearly unbelievable.  _ Chalk that up with everything else, _ Sam thought to himself dejectedly. 

Ever since Mary left, the tension in the group was palpable. Dean blamed himself, as always, and Sam felt helpless to do anything about it. He’d never,  _ ever  _ come across a creature quite as mysterious and hard to figure out as the gruachs. That was saying something, especially since he’d been researching and killing countless monsters with Dean for almost 15 years now. The fact that they had next to no information on the bastards that were possessing their mother made it all the more unbearable. Rowena had been their only fountain of knowledge lately, and even her recollection of them was sparse. How could they fight something they didn’t even know?

The dragon crooned low and gravelly at him, long neck swaying slightly as though beckoning him to climb up. Sam would never get over the sight of those amber eyes staring at him, surrounded by thorny spines of scales, pure fire and universe burning within them. 

He gave a slight smile and was about to climb on, before something caught his eye. Something small and red, peeking out from between the sharp, seemingly infinite row of dagger like teeth of Gabriel. 

He frowned, stepping closer and trying to get a better look. “Gabe…” He started, “what is that?”

If he didn’t know better, Sam would’ve sworn that a look of guilt flashed across the beast’s face. Could such a powerful creature even  _ show  _ guilt? He bowed his head sheepishly, trying to turn away from Sam, but the hunter wasn’t having it.

“Hey!” He admonished gently, gripping the bottom of the dragon’s jaw firmly, before pushing back the scaly, leathery skin surrounded his mouth. There, stuck within the cage of his teeth, was the unmistakable and bloodied femur bone of a sheep. The remnants of its ruined body were wedged between the crevices of the razor sharp incisors, and now that he was up close, Sam spotted bits of fleece stuck above the gums… The farmer’s missing livestock… It wasn’t a wendigo. It was Gabe.

“Gabriel!” Sam exclaimed, heart suddenly sinking to his stomach, “It was  _ you?!” _

The dragon chirred sadly and lowered its head in shame. It attempted to turn away, but Sam grabbed on of his scales firmly and forced him to stay put. “No!” He cried, “We are talking about this right now! What the hell are you doing?”

There was a long pause, before Gabriel seemed to deflate in resignation.  _ “I’m sorry, kiddo,”  _ he said telepathically,  _ “I know it was wrong, but I did it for Cassie. He was bone thin, and if we don’t consume grace at least once every millenia while we’re in our true form, we have to find something else. I wish I could’ve given him mine, but I barely have enough to spare, and draining me would’ve been draining you, too.” _

Sam frowned, still upset in confusion, anger, and fear. “Why didn’t you just tell us?” He demanded, “We could’ve gone to the store like  _ civilized humans  _ and-”

_ “It has to be a living thing.”  _ Gabriel interrupted quietly, sadly.  _ “There is only one substitute for an angel’s energy when grace isn’t around. It’s a terrible thing thrown on us by Luci… Call it his final farewell to heaven. He couldn’t stop Michael or our dad, so he used the last of his power and cursed all angels to take on a single characteristic of one of his monsters. He wanted us to feel like we belonged to him, to be reminded of him whenever we were alone. So now, if an angel doesn’t have any grace to rely on for energy, there’s only thing that can take its place- the beating heart of a living thing. If we don’t do that, we starve our true forms, and eventually, we die.” _

Sam swallowed thickly, hands clammy at the thought. How many innocent things have died since that curse? It seemed like something Lucifer would do. The idea itself oozed Lucifer and everything he stood for- cause as much death and destruction as you could. And to put that curse upon your siblings? What did that mean for the past? If angels had to have the beating heart of a living thing in substitute for grace, did that mean… people? How many humans were… eaten… in a desperate attempt to stave off hunger? It was demented and twisted, and it was made even worse by its victims not having a choice in whether or not they could avoid it. 

_ “I’ve seen what happens when it goes too far…”  _ Gabriel murmured solemnly, as though he was recalling a vivid memory,  _ “It’s not a fun way to go, Sammy. I know it’s wrong, and I hate it. Even with animals, I hate it. But the things that’ll happen to us if we don’t… I could never let that happen to one of my siblings. I just can’t.” _

Sam licked his lips indecisively, running a hand through his hair. He was still upset at the fact that Gabriel had not bothered to tell him any of this. They told each other everything! “If it was for Cas, why didn’t he go out and get it himself?” Sam demanded, “Why hasn’t he told us about this?”

Gabriel scoffed dryly.  _ “My brother is way too proud to admit when he’s doing badly. Before I forced him to, he was trying to repress his trueform, thinking he could tough it out and stay confined in his vessel. He only recently stretched his wings for the first time in thousands of years, and he’s weak, more than I’d care to see. I know he wanted to be strong for you and Dean- he didn’t want you guys to worry about stuff like this. Man, he’s gonna be pissed to find out that I blew the whistle on this whole deal.” _

Sam’s frown only deepened at that, eyebrows knitted together. “Cas is weak?” He asked concernedly, “Is he… ok?”

_ “He will be,”  _ Gabriel said,  _ “it’ll just take time and healing. He still has enough grace to keep from keeling over, if that’s what you mean… Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, ok? It wasn’t cool to sneak around like that. I know you don’t like it, and I should never have kept it from you. I promise I won’t ever do it again.” _

Sam sighed heavily. He was still upset that Gabriel hadn’t told him anything about it- they were supposed to know everything about each other, hell, Sam didn’t even have any secrets left! But looking at it from his point of view, he could see why the archangel would be reluctant to share something like that. And he’d be damned if it was the other way around, and it was his sibling who needed to either do that or face a horrible death. No doubt that Cas was keeping this all from Dean, since the angel had adopted the Winchester characteristic of martyrdom. He probably didn’t want to ‘burden’ the older hunter with his troubles.

“It’s ok. I guess I understand.” he said quietly, “But you don’t have to be afraid of what I’ll think anymore, Gabe. You  _ know  _ there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me not want you around… Right?”

Gabriel was silent for longer than Sam would’ve liked.  _ “I know that now,”  _ he said lowly,  _ “but part of me doesn’t. Part of me is still in shock that this is real. I mean, hell, not too long ago, you would’ve chased me out of the bunker with a shotgun! I was a jerk! You and I were tolerant of each other at best, and now, you’re a literal piece of my soul.” _

Sam felt the air leave his lungs and he swallowed thickly, looking at the ground. “Do you… Do you ever wish I wasn’t?” He croaked dryly.

Gabriel looked horrified at that, as much as a dragon could, and snorted his refusal.  _ “No!”  _ He exclaimed,  _ “Of course not, Samshine, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me! There are so many things to love about you, kiddo, it’s just… I guess I don’t really see what you love about me.” _

Sam knew that feeling all too well. The suffocating anxiety of inadequacy. He felt it when John called him a traitor for not following orders. He felt it when Jessica told him she loved him at Stanford. And even now, he’d sometimes catch himself feeling that way when he couldn’t help his brother. He feels like he used to know, used to have a list of things in his mind that were good about himself. He had a clear image of who he was, and why he should be proud of that person. But it was like an oil painting being left to the elements. As time passes, pieces of it rot and chip away. Rain falls, wind blows… Until one day, you can’t even tell what the picture used to be of. He felt like a child reliving a past life. A memory, something that used to be familiar, was now nearly impossible for him to recall. He could only imagine how Gabriel felt, given that he had so much more time of existence to lose himself in.

“I won’t pretend that I can make you believe me right now,” Sam said softly, resting a hand against the warm scales of the dragon, “God knows I wish I could, but I’m not that naive. All I can do is tell you the truth, and hope that someday, you’ll see it. You, and Cas, and Jack… you’re the real angels. Before I even knew you guys were real, I thought all angels were the heroes, the saviors, the merciful knights in shining armor. Almost every single one of them proved me wrong. Every single one of them, but you.”

Gabriel huffed at that, not knowing what to say, so Sam continued. “Raphael, Michael, Heylel… all of them have failed. I don’t know, call me crazy, b-but it's like our lives are some big trial, some test. You once told me what your father designed angels to be. What they were made for. Their purpose. And throughout my entire life, every angel I’ve ever met has  _ failed _ that. Out of the millions of you, all of them failed me and my family… all except three. Well, two and one nephilim.”

The dragon chuckled wetly at that, staring at Sam with those wide, unreadable fire eyes. Eyes that were almost similar to his vessel's, for fucks sake- Sam didn't even know how that was possible, but he could see some indescribable similarities between the honey gold of Gabriel's human form, and these powerful, conquering pits of fire.

“Never worry about that, ok?" Sam murmured lowly, running his fingertips over the hardened scales just under the dragon's snout, "Just... Trust me."

Gabriel chirred lowly on the physical plane, the deep throated croon reverberating around them as it bounced off the trunks of the trees. It wasn't long before the hunter had climbed up on the familiar back, situated himself between the giant shoulder blades, and felt the cool breeze of air as the immense wings took flight.

 


	59. My People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a quick update on Jack and our fav destiel pair ;) fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading! Please leave your reviews and comments below!

Jack is beginning to think that he has grown immune to bloodshed by now. Since taking his father’s throne, he’s seen countless human bodies torn apart in countless ways. Thankfully, most of them were just vessels for demons, their true owners having died long ago. Still, though, it never ceased to make him flinch. He’d grown good at hiding it.

He was currently seated on his throne with the great hall, surrounded by the festivities of a victory celebration being thrown by the Mabayn people. Jack had quickly come to learn of their existence soon after freeing the angels, and he had to admit, he was in disbelief when he found out who they were. 

The Mabayn were humans that had been unlawfully imprisoned in Hell, much like Mallory, but not quite. The Mabayn’s defining characteristic was that they were once worthy of being condemned to damnation. Many of them had done horrible things in their lives on earth, and were judged for their crimes. However, many of them repented at one point or another during their stay. But, instead of releasing them back into heaven like he was supposed to, Lucifer kept them locked away to torment for another eternity. The result of this atrocity was an entire race of semi-people, creatures who looked, talked, and acted like humans, but whose souls were heavily damaged and caught in limbo between Hell and Heaven, not truly qualifying for either of them. And since Jack had reclaimed his kingdom, they had become his biggest supporters. Half of his entire army was comprised of the Mabayn people, who believed that if they served a righteous leader now, they may have a chance at getting into heaven once in for all. 

As for Jack, he didn’t know what to believe. His grace could sense those who were supposed to be in heaven and those who supposed to be in hell. All souls gave off an aura, a signal that told him definitively where to put them. But with the Mabayn, his grace could detect nothing- not even a trace of certainness. It was a blurred, muted light that looked almost underdeveloped, like a premature image of a child in the mother’s womb- it didn’t look like anything. 

So, since he had no clear place to send them, he granted them temporary refuge away from the tormenting flames. Their camps sprawled miles and miles across the small, cursorily put-together alternate dimension that Jack had made for them. It was a tiny pocket of a world, barely qualifying as an alternate universe. The door to it was locked away safely in his throne room, guarded 24/7 by either Ferdinand or Mallory. 

In exchange for allowing them to live in relative peace under his protection, the Mabayn served as scouts, spies, and warriors in his quest to rid Hell of corruption. They brought in unlawful demons, patrolled earth undercover to catch and stop crossroad deals, and guarded every single one of the gates to make sure that no one unauthorized had access. They trained alongside demons in the brigades, practicing and perfecting their fighting skills so that they would be ready if anything ever tried to storm the kingdom for whatever reason. Over the millenia, they had developed their own beliefs, their own language, and their own culture. 

Unfortunately, one core aspect of that culture was violence. They held arena battles and sword drawn brawls with one another, cheering on the strongest warrior. They took their victory spoils in only two ways: the head of their enemy, or the wife of their enemy. Their raw and unfiltered ferocity had caught the boy off guard at first, and he’ll admit that he had to stop himself from puking the first time he saw a Mabayn fighter slit his enemy’s throat and rip out his tongue with his bare hands. Death was a part of life for them, as natural as anything else. The only thing about the Mabayn’s death, was that they did not come back. Since they were still semi-human, what was left of their souls  _ did  _ leave them if they died, even in Hell. But where those souls went, no one knew. Not even Jack.

He always felt uncomfortable at these events, like he was witnessing something he wasn’t meant to see. However, the Mabayn people adored and admired him so much, that he couldn’t say no when they asked him to be the guest of honor at one of their celebration feasts. They served him faithfully and loyally, and over the time he’d spent in Hell, he’d gotten to know the stories of many of them. The more he learned, the more he saw that a lot of them were just people who’d made mistakes, whose hearts had hardened somewhere along the way and did not know what to do. He knew they could have been horrible people in life, but now, they were just lost souls trying to find their way home, wherever that was. So, although he definitely wasn’t one to watch bloodshed for sport, he felt it was his duty as their leader to forge a bond with them. Even if that bond was built over vicious gladiator-style fights.

He was torn away from his thoughts by a remark from Aetius, one of his commander of the guards. “Why so serious, my lord?” He chuckled with a grin, pushing a goblet of wine into Jack’s hands, “This is meant to be your victory celebration! We’ve gotten rid of the last crossroads hotspots in all of Asia!”

Jack smiled at him ruefully, swirling the wine in his glass, “That we have,” he replied, “you and your garrison did a fantastic job on this project. I am very pleased with the progress you’ve brought us. 17.21 million square miles to search is no small feat.” 

Aetius tilted his head gratefully, leaning on the leather hilt of his sword. “It is an honor to serve you, my lord.” He said quietly. 

A loud chorus of cheering rang throughout the crowd as two men got up to fight, drawing their swords without any armor on, the one’s wives standing beside him, naked. 

“I hope to see Badurad win this one,” Aetius laughed, gesturing to the hulking warrior on the right with the gleaming scythe, “he deserves to take home one of Gaios’ girls. God knows he could use a good fucking after the battle he fought against the crossroads.”

Jack said nothing, watching as the two men fought one another. He wondered what Sam and Dean would have to say about all this, silently chuckling to himself as he realized that what he was witnessing right now would give them a run for their money in terms of the most barbaric things they’d ever seen.  _ Sam would hold out hope that I’d still have my innocence,  _ he thought bittersweetly, thinking of his friend,  _ and Dean… Dean might be the only one up there who’s seen things worse than this. I wonder if he ever thinks of me… If he hates me…  _

His train of thought was cut off by the sluicing sound of splattering blood, the head of Badurad falling from his shoulders and rolling to the floor. His body hit the ground with a thud, and the crowd erupted in cheers once more. Gaios wasted no time in collecting his winnings, taking his opponents’ mastercrafted sword and leather belt before mounting one of the naked women, all right in front of the cooling corpse. 

“Ooh!” Aetius groaned, slapping his knee in disappointment before taking another swig of his wine, “That’s a damn shame! I was really pulling for him this time… Look at Gaios now, for fuck’s sake- the last thing that bastard needs is more pride to his air filled head.”

Jack looked away, swallowing thickly. He had seen worse, and despite the fact that it should, the events taking place in front of him was not what disturbed him. It was the thought of where Badurad would go now that his head had been severed from his torso and his opponent had taken all his belongings. They may be their own people, but they were still his subjects. He was concerned for the eternality for all his people, condemned or freed. 

“Aetius,” he started, brows furrowed in thought, “tell me again, where do your people think you go when you die?”

Aetius paused suddenly at that, caught off guard by the question. He bowed his head respectfully, setting his wine goblet down. “Forgive me, my lord, but isn’t that a question that you would know better than I?” He murmured.

Jack frowned, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t ask for what you  _ know _ , I asked for what you  _ think _ .” He said, not unkindly.

Aetius was silent for a beat, almost as if he was trying to determine whether or not he should tell the whole truth. The moment seemed oddly quiet between them, despite the noise and absolute chaos that was going on around them. 

“We believe in The Great Shepherd.” He said solemnly, fiddling with the leather hilt of his weapon, “The creator of all living things. When a person dies, The Great Shepherd will find them, and guide them back to the land of our ancestors. He will restore their soul, and place them among all who came before. They will ride forever on the plain that never ends, until the Great Shepherd returns to earth and makes all the world his herd.” 

Jack tilted his head in thought at that, marveling at the idea. He’d never met his grandfather before, but he liked to believe that God would be lenient on the Mabayn. Surely, any king who created earth would have at least  _ some  _ appreciation for the resiliency of life. It would be hard to create the universe and not have insight on the human soul. 

“Enough talk,” Aetius said gruffly, waving his hand in dismissal, “I need to find my woman, make sure she hasn’t drank herself into a stupor.” He sheathed his sword and bowed before the young Nephilim respectfully. “A pleasure as always, your grace.” He saluted, before disappearing into the large crowd to find his wife. 

Jack watched him thoughtfully, sitting back in his throne and trying to relax with the mood of the feast. Ferdinand crooned lowly at his feet, the massive hellhound growing bigger by the day. When Lucifer had given him to Jack, he was a scrawny, neglected, malnourished thing, locked away in the darkness. Now, he was Jack’s companion and most loyal friend, never doing anything unless his master gave him the explicit command. 

Jack reached down and carded a hand through the beasts’ fur gently, letting his fingers get lost in the obsidian tufts. “You’re my friend, Ferdinand,” he whispered lowly to the hound, before looking up at the dense crowd that was dancing and chatting around the large bonfire, “and these are my people.”

 

* * *

 

Dean liked to pretend, sometimes, that he had never met Castiel the way they did. When he was lying next to his beloved in their bed early in the morning, hand trailing lazily across the angel’s chest, he’d pretend that they were a normal couple who lived the perfect life. That Cas had met him in high school or something, that they had dated for a while before falling in love. That they actually had the chance to just be in each other’s lives without having to worry about the other’s imminent death. It was just a dream, of course… but it was his dream. And if there was anything Dean had learned in his life, it was that sometimes, dreams are all you have to hold on to.

“Do you always stare at your family members this intensely?” Cas murmured gravelly, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he stared at Dean from his spot on the pillow they were sharing. 

Dean snorted at that, looking up at the ceiling briefly. “It’s not ‘intensely’,” he muttered, “don’t be weird.”

Castiel tried and failed to hold back a chuckle at that, grabbing Dean’s shoulder and rolling him over on his side so they were staring face to face, inches apart. “But Dean,” he chided, voice somehow playful yet deadpan all at once, “I thought my weirdness was what attracted you to me.”

The older hunter couldn’t help it as his face split into an ear to ear grin. “Maybe just a little.” He whispered almost imperceptibly as he pressed his lips against Cas’, closing his eyes against the dark brown locks of hair.

Cas kissed him back with a gentleness that was unmatched, and when he pulled back, Dean could see the ethereal glow of his blue grace just behind his eyes, pulsing slightly as though the angel was trapped inside his vessel, longing to get out and magnetize towards Dean for real. It made him a little sad at times that he could never  _ really  _ hold Castiel, that he would always just be holding Jimmy Novak’s body. The person he was in love with was a genderless, light-filled being that he could never look at. He frowned at that thought, placing a hand on Cas’s cheek and staring at him intently. 

“Why can’t humans look at you?” He whispered deeply, “I-I know, the light is too powerful, but… why? There has to have been a time where we could see each other. Adam and Eve and all that, right? Why could you be with them, but not with us?”

A soft sadness fell upon Castiel’s features, and he reached up and covered Dean’s hand with his own. “It is part of the curse man made.” He murmured quietly.

“What do you mean by that?” Dean asked, “What curse?”

Castiel frowned, as though recalling a painful memory. “When you… When man ate from the forbidden tree, they chose pride over us. They had the choice to stay with us forever, or go off on their own and make their own lives that Lucifer tempted them with. They chose to leave us behind. When we… When we tried to stop them, to get them to come back, they grew angry with us. I don’t know if it was Lucifer in their heads, or if they were caught in a fit of passion, but they cursed us. They said…  Their words were, ‘get away, leave us be… we never want to see you again.’. And because of their contempt and the ferocity with which they said it, it was made true. Adam and Eve swore they’d never want to see us again, so they never did. And no one has ever since. We are cursed to hide our faces from humanity, or else we will kill them… You may be familiar with the old phrase, ‘everything I touch turns to dust’. Our curse is where that comes from. I cannot touch or reveal myself to anything in this world, or it will burn away.” 

Dean looked askance at that, both horrified and saddened all at once. No angel or monster had done this… humans did. His own species was why he could never meet the love of his life. He and Sam got so caught up in hunting monsters over the years, that he often forgot that humans can be just as evil as any demon or wendigo. 

“... What happened, after that?” Dean asked softly, cautiously. He knew it was a touchy subject, “After they cursed you?”

Castiel was silent for a moment, staring at his and Dean’s interlocked hands. “Our hearts were broken.” He answered truthfully, brutally honest, “All of ours were. Michael and Raphael, especially. They were the first to welcome man into the garden of Eden, the first to bond with them. There was nothing Michael wouldn’t do for humanity- he and Raphael, they spent days on end with them, talking and laughing… even playing games. They gave up everything for mankind… and mankind abandoned them. I sometimes think that’s why they became such monsters… their grief drove them to madness.” 

Dean would never forgive Michael for the destruction and pain he caused them, the terrible things he did both in this universe and the alternate one. But as he listened to the sincerity in Cas’s voice, he began to see how the archangel could have come to be so horrible. It was no excuse, not at all, but… But Dean knew what it felt like to be abandoned. He could only imagine what one would feel if they gave up everything for humanity, only to be betrayed by those you loved most. He paused, tilting his head up to look at the angel. “What about you?” He murmured gently, “What did you do?”

Cas huffed a breath at that, rolling over to face the hunter. “I was too young to remember much of it.” He said, “I was the last angel God created. When Lucifer fell and took mankind with him, I was only a fledgling. Gabriel took me away from most of the chaos and found a safe place in heaven for me to grow. Everyone was so hysterical, I doubt they would’ve noticed if they trampled their baby brother to death in the protests.”

Dean frowned at that, before trying to picture a  _ baby  _ angel. He couldn’t help but grin. “What the hell do you guys look like as kids?” He asked, voice thick with sleep, “Like, are you guys babies or something?”

Cas’s brows knitted in confusion, the way they always did when he didn’t understand a human. “We are not human, Dean, we exist on a celestial plane-”

“I know, I know,” Dean cut him off, “what I mean is… You have all your different kinds of ‘forms’. What do you look like when you’re really, really young?”

Castiel paused for a moment, trying to find the words to describe it accurately to Dean. “I suppose we’d look the same as our dragon form, that’s every angel’s default form. Only we would be without feathers, and in terms of size comparison, we would be no bigger than your average full grown North American raccoon.”

Dean couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips in the dark. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he thought that sounded so damn… cute. A tiny lizard with leathery wings and eyes lit up with grace. Of course, he would never be able to see that. Cas had to dim down his dragon form so that it would be safe for people to look at. 

“I wanna meet you someday.” Dean said suddenly, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them, “I wanna see you outside of Jimmy Novak… like, really meet.”

Cas was speechless for a moment, eyes wide with that notion. He was touched, that Dean could see beyond his vessel and realize that he was separated from the world, hidden away in a mask of flesh, unable to show himself to anyone. It scared him. “I don’t know if you would.” Cas sighed heavily, “I am not what I used to be. My wings have seen better days, and I fear that you would be ‘creeped out’ at my unusual shape.”

Dean shook his head lightly, rustling against the pillow they were both sharing, “No, I wouldn’t,” he argued kindly, “I’d love to see you. That’d be awesome.”

Cas smiled at that, heart suddenly saddened that he could not meet Dean in person and wrap him up in his wings. Dean deserved better than his meager, tattered appendages. “Gabriel is much more beautiful than me,” he started quietly, “his wings are the color of gold, in shades and hues that you could not even imagine. Raphael was the richest emerald green, and known for his voice… He could sing in a way that would calm all the animals in Eden. Michael was strong, regal, beautiful, as well. He was the color of silver after it’s been liquified, that kind of shimmering you only see in water… I don’t remember Lucifer much, but I can recall his wings being the largest. They were almost white, like platinum after it’s been polished.”

“Those do sound nice,” Dean admitted, “but I don’t want them. I want Castiel.” 

Cas blushed, but in the dark, he hoped Dean wouldn’t see it. “How could you possibly know that?” He muttered lowly, “You don’t even know what I look like.”

Dean cupped his cheek gently, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “You’re right, I don’t,” he said, “but I know I would love you. Hell, I already do.”

They kissed softly, slowly this time, lips closed and pressed up against one another. From within his vessel, Castiel could pretend that Dean was really touching him, that he was being held close to him without the barrier between them. He held him closer, wrapping his arms around his torso. “I love you, too.” Cas whispered quietly, “I have since before I knew what love was.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cupboard full of fanwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341094) by [dragonsmoker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsmoker/pseuds/dragonsmoker)




End file.
